How many must die before we say, enough!
How many of our children must we sacrifice?
Is the tears of a nation enough to call a halt?
Do we plan to kill a nation to spill enough blood?
How many must die?
How many children have no parents?
How many children must die?
How many pregnant women?
How many grandparents?
When does it end?
How did we get here?
When will we get the truth?
My head swims with unanswered questions.
When does a nation say, enough?
When its youth is gone?
I remember when war was something you only got into when necessary.
War is not beautiful, nor noble.
We see the sanitized pictures, of rebels being caught.
But the shield us from the bodies blown to pieces,
To keep from seeing the truth.
Troops fire from miles away,
Rarely do they see the enemy,
The bombs land on the criminal and innocent alike,
How do you tell them apart?
Because of distance, it seems like a computer game.
We do not hear their screams, we do not smell their burning and rotting flesh.
We only hear the news the media deems fit for us.
To learn the truth, we must seek it elsewhere.
Our children come home sickened and silent.
When will it end?
How many dead are enough?
© 2004. Jacqueline C. Britton. All Rights Reserved