They love that photo, the media,
But when I see your face,
Looking up but somehow falling down,
Eyes bewildered orbs of pain,
I have to turn aside
And push away my mind.
I cannot face you,
Cannot cope with what you went through,
Cannot deal with how you died.
And there are others,
Living with atrocities, daily,
Absorbing pain, fear, living in unspeakable worlds.
They should know nothing but love,
laughter and a safe haven.
I cannot face you.
I turn to my children,
Who know nothing yet, of the evil people do,
They can make me forget, for a while,
Your pale, pleading face,
The bruises, and the beatings,
Tiny battered broken boy.