They are searching
The rubble of ground below
Last nights bombing
The flames still glow
Tomorrow they will bury
The children they found
It was I who dropped bombs
So high without sound.
Away from the carnage
Like a computer game
Targets and lines
Then it becomes insane
To see devastation
Lives taken and torn
I am the dealer of death
This horror is born.
They pinned a medal on my chest
Shook my hand and impressed
What a hero I was
In fondness kept
Its hidden in a drawer
Away from the glare
Of people without conscience
Politicians who dont care.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: February 21st, 2026 03:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3

Offline)
Comments1
Good write N.
thanks for reading and always much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.