Tears of innocence

The war stains my eyes, Of unheard screams. So loud that I think, My eardrums will bleed. I'm centered on ground. The dirt beneath my feet, The crumbling society. And the guns taking my seat. My wife is dearly missed, Dead or Alive. If I see her again, They say "I won't thrive". A man is a man, And a gun is a gun, Be one, which one? Does it matter if it's gone. Woman are the weakness, Yet we fear the enemy's too. My dearly loved figure, Will never be figured. She waits at home, Or in the ground. Like a dog at the door. Missing her husband whose "making her proud", When I'm only just at war. The bare minimum, From an argument, That shouldn't have started a war. The bar minimum, Of disarming, We realise we are poor. Poor in memories, Poor in labour, Poor in everything the country loved. Poor in our hearts, As we pour. The water from above. The water of blood. And tears of innocence. The tears we could have saved, Had we not been dismissive. I hear a mother shouting, Over her young child's dead body. "Did this need to happen" Does everyone feel sorry? Is everyone mourning, Or is it only noon. Is everyone fair? Or are they too dead to care.