The crying boy
sees his mother.
Cold and lifeless
on the street corner.
There are no body bags here.
Babies are buried,
in graves of rubble.
No need to explain
what that means.
…..” So, how are you today?”
Morality Lost
The crying boy
sees his mother.
Cold and lifeless
on the street corner.
There are no body bags here.
Babies are buried,
in graves of rubble.
No need to explain
what that means.
…..” So, how are you today?”
A Wandering Poet 