Petite Poetry

A sudden and momentary lull in the world,

And for a moment, just a moment,

The screams of the innocent can be hard,

The bloodied hands of their fellows,

Tear one more soul from the world,

Leaving an empty void in a mothers broken heart,

All innocence destroyed in a fiery rush of rage,

The earth itself cries out in pain,

Sweet daughters and sons slaughtered in vain,

The childrens voices cry out at every break in the clouds,

Yet again the sun hides, the world moves on,

The noise intensifies, moving past the breaking point,

And the childrens screams are forgotten forever more.

February 3, 2006