Don't worry little girl, you need not cry,
we know your tears, and feel them every one
and all too well, though many have to die,
you will go home again, it is not gone,
but merely re-arranged, or burned at most,
the place called home still thrives for you one day
to dream and build again, a fence, a post,
four walls to keep you safe where you can stay,
and never see again man's evil eye
nor feel again the hate that brought this on,
and though for now you sit alone and cry,
the bombers and the butchers will be gone.
Your home is safe, and waits for your return,
Though nothing's left, except what will not burn.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa