Little Children Poem by Chris Zachariou

Little Children

Rating: 5.0


Rachel with a yellow star
on her tiny little arm
walks into the jaws of death.

Smoke pours out of the chimney
and the smell of burning flesh
hangs heavy in the air.

Ismail is screaming.
He cannot see but still can feel
his leg that's no longer there.

Death keeps falling from the sky
and all the time you can hear
the cries of children dying.

Mariam embraces her God-
a stick of dynamite.
Then she walks into a mosque.

Tuesday, June 4, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: children,death,racism,war
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 22 February 2020

Death keeps falling from the sky and all the time you can hear the cries of children dying. the stick of dynamite........... a fine poem full of terrilbe emotions. tony

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