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poetry

Who will care for the children
when your war, when the fighting, is done?
Who will protect and deliver,
when the mothers and fathers are gone?

Who even cares about children,
when there’s call for blood in the air?
What kind of god would ever consider
a sacrificed child as a prayer?

Can you say that you care about innocence,
while laughing at forgive and forget?
Is there not enough pity in your souls
to neglect the price of old dept?

Is there not enough room here for all of us?
Do we need so much power and space?
If you trust in your faith, let it be, warrior,
for your enemy mirrors your face.

Who will care for the children
when the last loving person is gone?
Then there will be no more children –
even your petty wars will be done.