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The poems

Made by Teresa Marrin
© 2010-2012

weapons of mass destruction

They say the blast
Blew the heads off the children
We sit sipping our morning coffee
And think – Lord
How is it possible
To survive seeing something like that?
How do you clean up the mess
And shoulder your weapon
And go back to whatever it was
You were doing
Before the explosion?
How do you deal
With the hysterical mother
The father and aunt
Who cradled the headless bodies
As if, somehow, they would come back
How do you explain this to people
Who are marionettes of war
Their dancing driven
By the pure desperation
To be left alone
To eat a meal, to celebrate a birth
To farm, to go to work
Simple things that have nothing to do
With palaces and tanks

More importantly
How do we go on
To whatever daily things we have to
And forget?