I've posted this poem due to Donald Trumps Threat (via tweet today) to send missiles to Syria.

FOR THE CHILDREN OF SYRIA.

The children of Syria dream just like mine,
they long and they wish for play-times sublime.
where skipping and hopscotch beckon a smile,
and the end of a rainbow begs to beguile.
Pretty long lashes on cherub soft eyes
wake in a panic as a bomb smokes the skies.
and trauma of war-time ends their sweet dream
for Syrian children as peace turns to scream.
The children of Syria breath just like yours
but smoked-air's inferior and deadly of-course.
And the mother's of Syria cry as they see
their small darling children die endlessly
their babies clutch close as angry jets roar
in the arms of stressed mothers fleeing from war.
The children of Syria bleed as ours do
as violent explosions destroy their homes too.
Mortar and bricks crushing young lives
broken FOREVER those few whom survives.
Chemical weapons weep from the sky,
gasping through white frothy airways some die.
And the children of Syria,
can't understand,
why THE great Western world
today threatens their land.