Crashes upon crashes
metal and bone smashes
Blood and oil
evidence of fruitless toil
And they cheered at the spot where our soldiers died.

Headlines repeat
many spelling of defeat
So sick of such sickness
Endless, borderless mess
And the boy laughed, holding up our dead soldier’s kevlar.

Mortars upon mortars scream
More tears stream
No genuine smiles remain
Only arrogance and pain
And those students smiled as our flag turned to ash.

List after list
Scaly agendas twist
Politicians visit
make hasty exits
And there’s no need for rain in this land where blood and tears flow

And all will repeat tomorrow
And tomorrow


© 2025 Joan Zaruba. All rights reserved.