From the Vault: Civil War (A Poem)

Freedom by numbers… escalating

As the fire rages deep in the heartland

Into the heart of a child left to die

Holding onto the severed hand of all that

is left of its family

Ripped in two by the thick knife of hatred

And this civil war burns its imprint

into the ravaged earth

5, 4, 3,

2 children out of 261 escape…

by numbers… decelerating

The pain flows red like blood

while the blood flows freely

between the cracks in the pavement

A man holds onto his photo album…

scarred but still whole

while his face dissolves in tears

Eternal sadness… he falls to his knees

and prays to a god he no longer believes in

For strength he no longer wants… the smell

of death overrides his need for survival

For redemption

For a cup of water because he is thirsty

But no help comes and his body joins the millions

In defeat on the desert sand

Freedom by numbers… escalating

trauma

Bruised victims with open mouths

Open hands

Open eyes

Watching their children die by the destructive

force of a civil war… the guilty… dead

the innocent… dead

And a silent cry drowns out the distant sound

Of gunfire

A cry for freedom… that never comes.

Sam