Written by Chrysoula Kopanou
The blood of young boys
is drenching the cold and hard ground.
Body parts, shattered dreams and
the remnants of unanswered cries
for peace are scattered everywhere.
The air reeks of death,
burnt tears and of innocent flesh.
Crows and vultures fly above
them.
Nourishment
Politicians with maps,
are giving long speeches
for the masses.
The most cunning vulture, they are.
Citizens are just property
after all,
nothing more than pawns.
Nothing more than pawns
who happen to have something…
Called soul.
War by war,
kill by kill,
order by order,
the less human we become.
Text © Chrysoula Kopanou
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Thank you. Your poem rightly, tragically depicts war and the effects.