Another Day In Iraq By: Anonymous For Now Be still. There are no sounds. Not anymore. Not after the grizzly stench of bombings that lay before the dinner table. The sounds of trumpeting voices still echo inside the gates of every child's mind. Noises abruptly halt the laughter and smiles of the city. Yet they've stopped. For now. No more thundering explosions abuse the hearts of the innocent. For now. The children come back out. In fear of the atomic packages that fell from the stars. The gift of 'democracy' tightly laced in ammunition. A mother’s worried cries dress the streets in a somber outfit of tears. She searches for her lost young. Her mind racing, her stomach churning, burning with the acids of dread and panic. Her milk is drying, dissipating from the absence of a tender child. She breaks, like a China doll that fell from the careless hands of a militant. Her demeanor represents the widespread poverned nation in which she lives. Breathing, In Out The cluttered, stifled air of a chemical soup. She drops. Falling upward Towards the only Peace she can find. Scrambling like a cockroach in the light. She searches for a morsel of humanity to feed the lost. The noises return, along with the familiar smell of burning metal. Another day in Iraq. http://messengerandadvocate.wordpress.com/200 7/03/
Works Cited- "The Trench System". Spartacus Educational. May 2, 2010. "Another Day In Iraq". poetryamerica.com. May 2, 2010. "Trench Foot". Spartacus Educational. May 2, 2010. “Barbed Wire". May 2, 2010.