Poem "Child of War"

Child of War



Do they think of the children? Those evil masters of war !!

When they drop their bombs and shoot their guns,

it's the little ones who bare the scar.

The scars they bare run oh so deep, to deep to even show.

Their pain is greater and last much longer,

than the wounds of those they know.



The evil ones must be careful, they hide the blood of the young,

it must not be seen when shed.

Still, they shatter their lives, take their loved ones away

and leave them not even a bed.

You can see in their tiny face, their innocence surely lost.

Gone are their homes, the ones they loved, and all their familiar places.

In their small dark eyes are thoughts vacant as can be.

They once had parents who kept them safe, now they're only refugees.



The trails they leave are scattered upon the ground.

A torn teddy bear with only one eye,

a soiled doll that makes a crying sound,

their play areas only piles of rubble all around.

The life they knew will never be again.

No holidays with family gathered 'round.

All of this was taken from them, when the evil ones bombed their town.!



They're from places such as Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, Gaza

and now even The Ukraine.

The names sound strange, but it's always the same,

their numbers are so many.

Where do they go? How do they cope?

Who will care for them, as they grow old?

No, the children are never considered,

by those cowards with no conscience or a soul!!



Miriam Sosebee