BATTLE CRIES

I do love a poem now and then…

THE PEN & THE PAGE

The hopeless eyes and tear stained horror of a fragile, far-away gaze. Where once, a sweet and happy child dwelt, till the innocence of life was erased. The tears have dried up, cried out with the pain on battered beseeching hands. Just sitting, bereft, in the remains of a life; in the dust of desolate lands. Never will a smile grace the frozen faces of those who have seen so much grief. The laughter and joy lie dead and buried, their moments so tragically brief. Childhood cut short and a long life so alone, no longer afraid the bombs. Just vacant resignation of all that will be; a lament for a life now long gone. It breaks my heart and claws at my soul to see the haunted gaze of a child. Staring from the rubble of streets they once played, where death and destruction run wild. Will we ever…

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