its clear again,
we open our eyes,
relax muscles,
the thunder of jets fading,
now i can hear my sisters' screaming,
father hugs her to him,
no bombs yet this morning.
-
Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: December 30th, 2018 03:57
- Comment from author about the poem: A small family unit shelter in a ragged filthy bombed out building. Mother dead, brother dead, surviving in rags, in fear of their lives. Guilty of being born in a place where someone can buy and use weapons made in the west.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments6
Syria springs to mind although there are many places that live under such circumstances on an ongoing daily basis..... I drove through Syria a few years ago and what a beautiful country it was then and the people so friendly.. an emotionally charged little poem if ever there was..... Neville
A powerful few lines of mindful sympathy for those caught between guns and bombs - - So sad this tragic result of the arms trade.
Such a powerful write, those in power do not care though.
We, in the West, get enraged, and rightly so, when incidents like Sandy Hook happen, and its impact on especially the young.
But, there are similar incidents, a million times more deadly, taking place, day after day, when bombs rain in from the sky, or massacres by radicals. Their trauma is unthinkable, unbearable and eternally scarring. We, humans, are our worst enemies, and in spite of being the intelligent species, we remain ignorant.
That is exactly where i was coming from in writing this. Trying to take my reader out of their western comfort zone and to think.
I believe that short pieces are more powerful than a multi verse piece "less is more".
These words are certainly worthy of a second visit .... now dont that read more poetic than ... I been here loads of time before just now ....
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