Children of War

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

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
Unbroken,
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?


Please read my other war poems here.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Rahul Misra’s story.