Bombs Before Breakfast
P Patti Masterman
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Bombs before breakfast, blasts just at noon-
Hurry and sup, before we all swoon.
A leg flying by, we pretend not to see,
As we're remembering freedom's not free.
Fingers on stairwells, crushed by a wall,
Buildings much shorter that once were so tall.
Children are silenced both early and late-
Not from mere etiquette- no; cruel hand of fate.
World turns its head, or else fans the flames,
History forgetting our faces and names.
If this doesn't matter, this right here and now;
How can anywhere matter, any time- and how?
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş