What of the children
By Rob KingstonThey knew nothing of the politics of flight, merely watched the birds that soared in the sky.
They knew nothing of the world around them and how it would ignite when sitting watching sparks rise up like fireflies in the hearth by night.
They knew nothing of what spooked their parent’s sight, no understanding of the fear that glowed bright in their eyes.
They knew nothing of why their calm mother from polite and encouraging became anxious holding them tight.
They knew nothing of why father stood watching from the window each night, simply thinking he was watching dreams drift by in the moonlight.
They know nothing of why they are walking for days, pushed shoved and spat upon by a world given to not caring.
They know nothing of the politicians that sit on their hands, whilst they grow blown bellies and sleep in no go zones.
Perhaps they will know in time, should the death bell not ring for them this day!
(c) Robert Kingston 20.9.15
This could be an international anthem. So many countries ignore their young. Nice thoughtful writing...
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem and very relevant to this age (and probably every other age). Truly awful to be born dispossessed.
ReplyDeleteHow to be right in a world gone wrong, as your mate James Obrien's book would say. We are kept in the dark and pretty much powerless, even charity donations get secreted into the wrong hands. Of course, provided
ReplyDelete"the majority" are kept, relatively happy, the minority will suffer. I see that this was written during a "rebellious period" several meaningful pieces have surfaced during this blog, you seem to have had a writing spurt at that time. Got any more Rob?