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Children of War

Their smiles are a lie,
Eyes barely dry,
Tiny fists clenched into rocks,
None ever saying

Prisoners forever,
They stand in a queue,
Trapped in soundless screams,
Shrieking mothers,
Fathers fallen,
Buried in a rubble of dreams.

With stomachs in a knot,
They wait for food
But all their bread lies
Corrupted by the sewage
Of their nightmares,
Not cleansed and 
Never woken.

You have seen them before,
In pamphlets and posts
Flung aside in the bin,
Children of war,
They are weeping ghosts,
What exactly is their sin?

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