Bombs
Bombs fall —
Skies rip.
Shrapnel rains,
And cities slip.
Men fight,
Children scatter —
Deafening screams
Drown in blood splatter.
Dust clears slow;
The silence is cruel,
Whispers of the dead
Haunt streets once full.
Hearts break,
Lungs choke,
Buildings erupt
Into columns of smoke.
When the tears run dry,
Misery remains —
Rubble for pillows,
Anguish in veins.
And in the stillness,
A child hums low,
Cradling her doll
In the red-stained snow —
Singing to ghosts
She’ll never know…
While the world just watches,
And chooses not to know.
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