Man-made
hell on earth.
The demons applaud.
From the sky a whistle
as missiles fall.
The ground rumbles,
angry fire spews.
A boom.
Fire-torn buildings crumble.
The rubble consumes.
Crying eyes.
Safe haven denied.
Now any target
is justified
to the hateful
baying crowds.
The choking smoke
fills young lungs.
Tarring them
from deep inside,
scarring developing minds.
When is it too much?
To my TV I cry.
The screams, wailing
never ending agony.
Rubble soaking in blood
that will never wash out.
Hands coated in blood
that will never wash off.
How bad do things need to get?
Before we say
no more blood can be let, until
we demand that the bombing stop
Where heavy fires burned
embers still smoulder.
People stand
shoulder to shoulder digging
through this place of slaughter,
searching for lost sons and daughters
and the sooty tears run,
like rain down worn war-torn cheeks.
Somebody please
give the innocent
a chance to speak.
Thanks for reading
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