It’s The Children Who Fall
When the elders declare a war,
they have lived their lives.
Wars thundering through the
centuries,
Death is present to reap,
it’s the children who fall.
They haven’t walked enough,
in childhood’s discovering journey.
The bombs, the drones,
the guns,
the screams of fright,
it’s the children who fall.
Dust plumes in the hellish rampage,
and in the rubble they are dead,
mothers, fathers wail to God Who
weeps on His heavenly throne.
Psyches bleed, ravaged by grief.
Wars trample and crush the flowers
of innocence,
as the butterflies search for them,
it’s the children who fall. ~
Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2025
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