They run
from the bombs of death
that fall from the skies.
Ashamed of what they've seen.
They hide
in fear and pain
and wonder why
in each new place they find
more of their friends are missing.
The children of war
huddle in dark corners and cry
their tears falling
into the open wounds
of a world
hopelessly infected with hate.
They hope against all odds
all the good in this life
will come to rescue them
that they wont be condemned
to evils fate.
The children of war
are lost and cold and hungry
some barely alive
Drowning
in the dark water
we've placed all around them.
Gasping for their breath
they only beg to survive. 


Copyright 2001 Pierre Ortega