I have nothing to say, but gather the thoughts of my brain.
Grade them one by one as if they were grains of salt.
To add to the wounds of every cut, that has bared testament to every hurt.
That the so called leaders of this earth.
Have lashed out and branded the innocent and pure, as weak.
To stand up to their butchery and their fear.
Could they look their mother in the face and say.
No mother I won't do this.
This is wrong I cannot kill, it doesn't matter what you think.
All this killing and dieing must be in vain.
Just to powder the nose of the vane insane.
People matter, lives matter, the children of tomorrow who are killed today matter.
History repeating itself day after day.
All because we can see no other way.
And the children that are slain just because they were born.
I hope some day they get their say. That their blood and tears are not just wiped away.
And used as an excuse to do the same again in vengeance and hate.
To humiliate and intimidate the rite to life and gift of love.
© Conor Boland