Time is our most precious thing, really.
We always want more.
More time with Family, Friends
More time at Play, Rest
But we don’t think about how little time
the children of war get.
Children of war who grow up
Surrounded by death and despair
Surrounded by chaos and anger
Growing up with a constant grief that
Can never go away.
Then there are the children who don’t.
Who don’t get to.
Those who are lost to the shadows of war,
Never to know what good life could be.
Never to know love if they seek it.
Never to know the stress of work.
The joy of community.
The peace of rest.
Lost to a world that can only count them
In numbers that go on forever.
Sometimes we know their names.
Usually we don’t.
But a child with a gun is still a child.
And no matter what,
Those children deserved better.
Those lost to the war, and
The ones lost in their never ending grief.
The world owed them better.
The world owed them more.
And we failed them.
For the children of the war, lost forever,
May they rest in peace.
For the children of the war, growing up in hate,
May they soon know peace.
