Do You Hear the Bombs Going Off

Do you hear the bombs going off in the distance, with no remorse of what they blow up? Can you hear the cries of children half burnt, sitting on shuttered streets? the evacuation was a success, all the rich and politicians gone with their suitcases in their butler's hands and maids trail along them with dust brooms, and the poor sit fighting their wars they started. Can you hear the German Junkers flying overhead? They drop whistling bombs crashing upon roofs of train stations and with an explosion of wind and fire bring down concrete walls that were built by men with courage. The heat of the scorching sun burns my skin as I hold my stomach that was shattered with a bullet from a soldier's gun. A knife wound that cuts deep down into my veins and blood spills out. Did you see the rebels walking through the streets, holding their loved ones in one hand and their family in the other? These men aren't soldiers, they're farmers who have families, born not to kill, but born to prosper. I am saddened to see my home burned down. I am saddened when I see my childhood burned up with an exploding bomb that drops from a thousand feet high in the sky. A tear shed for every soul that fights for freedom and for life to prosper as one. Now I walk on a stone bridge that once used to carry people across, now to carry soldiers and tanks and bombs across the river filled with blood. My heart it is sad, yet all I see is red and anger boils my blood. I seen a flood of emotion tare my country apart. Now I hear a burst of machine guns in the courtyards of University streets, once filled with young students, now those students with rifle in hand, fighting for freedom. I hold my breath and clench my head between my legs, till I hear an explosion from the bombs going off in the distance. Over the yellow mountains that cry with sorrow, I see the soldiers run away in pain and follow with their tails between their legs. And I let out a cry of reason and say, "Why!?"