For the Freedom-Loving People of Syria
Massacre at Houla.
She was no more than 10 years of age.
He could have been a grandfather.
Young, old, women, girls, men, boys.
108 lives.
Now they are buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.
Killed by knives,
shot at point-blank range,
slaughtered, mowed-down.
108 lives.
Snuffed-out. Decimated. Taken-out.
108 lives.
As Damascus lies blatantly,
spewing forth untruth,
108 warm, dead bodies,
remain buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.
108 lives.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment