Another Child......

An Abraham Lincoln ‘wannabe’, and a ‘would be’ Saladin,
two bloated egos stuffed with pride – two blackened souls within.
Their broadcast words of National pride; of victory and world peace,
ring hollow in the ears of those ,who have to pay the price.

A mother wails her anguished grief, a father’s anger wastes.
They drank in all the honeyed words, now bitter is the taste.
Sacrifice to the demi-god, and victory lies ahead,
a sacrifice to power and greed….. and now their child is dead,

The armourers and the generals , talk loud and at great length,
about the honour of their trade - the need for strong defence,
They sip their drink from frosted glass immune to terrors’ dread,
A fortune swells from gross untruth……and one more child is dead.

‘We’ve no quarrel with the people’ the hollow words proclaim,
but it’s the ordinary ‘you and me’ who suffer all the pain.
The sanctions bleed the common folk, but how often is it said?
The UN meets to talk again…….and another child is dead.

The PR smile;spin-doctored words, conceal the empty breast,
“a favoured class keeps me in power, so never mind the rest”.
The measured walk down aircraft steps, hand in hand with wife,
but take away the camera’s eye and the hand reveals a knife.

They dance upon the global stage, a gesture to posterity,
demand a place in history’s book by political dexterity,
a grotesque ‘pas de deux’ of death, a posture without pride,
and as they strut and mouth their words…….another child has died.

The hero’s heart, the warriors arm - neither can they claim,
just send a missile from the sky to kill and choke and maim,
and when the murder’s deemed complete and further warnings read,
inside the fallen house you’ll find ………another child is dead.

We sit and watch the pictures from our comfortable armchair
with muttered words of sympathy and postures of despair.
Collectively we’ve cast away our power to decide,
and as we sit in impotence……..another child has died.