Food For Thought

 

spiders-in-my-soup

They Call Them Terrorists

She walks the streets in sorrow and anger and sympathy

She cannot claim empathy for she has never known the torment or terror of war

She grieves for what she sees on her safe little box

Pictures of bodies, living and dead

Some still move but are unable to claim life

They cannot process what they see except through the blood red lens of hatred

It’s easier to hate than to fear

Easier to hate than to cry

The rage washes over them in waves

Each larger and more intense than the last

Until a tsunami is formed

Overpowering everything in its wake

 

She feels the buildup of their suffering

And sees the look in their eyes

The intensity of their raw emotion weighs her down

She cries out in her mind

Stop The Killing! Stop It! Stop It!

Can’t you see their eyes

The tsunami is forming

Its height and breadth formidable

When at last it crashes

A tiny new wave forms and begins to grow

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