Where is the Love

Google Images Syrian child refugee

How low must we go
or, is it how deep
it doesn’t make a difference
(does it?)

In this age of plastic
all for the fame
fake teeth, fake smile, fake lips
fake everything,
it should matter if none of it
is real
(shouldn’t it?)

But all I see are tears
for them
for you
for us
life’s like poetry
so beautiful when we
vibrate on the same frequency
because we are one race
We all bleed
we are all loved by someone
when will sanity prevail
because it surely could
(couldn’t it?)

When we have killed the last
in the name of religion
for the last drop of oil
the last drop of fresh water
When the last blade of grass
and the last fish in the sea
are all dead and past into


it will matter to us all
(won’t it?)


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

I care about love, compassion and empathy for suffering. This came about from seeing the news of Syria about the sickening and brutal rapes and massacre of mostly women and children (I suspect it’s to teach the men this is what we will continue to do to your families unless you toe the line) there on Sunday and, the killing spree by the US soldier in Afghanistan.

The carnage to its peoples and, the damage we are doing to this world is getting crazier by the day.

Where is the love?   What type of world are we leaving to its children if all they grow up knowing is hatred, fear and bloodshed?

Shared with Carry on Tuesday #148 ‘Life’s like poetry’
dVersePoets OpenLinkNight #35


Suffer little Children





Conscience weighs heavy. Easier to look the other way but, if we all did that then nothing would change (I silently admonish.) If not now then, in the fullness of time, these crimes will not go unpunished by the ultimate one who judges. She is a child, your child, my child. A mother and father’s daughter. The doctor’s returned to the kitchen. No white hospital walls or wards to work in and coatless, he wears an old woolly sweater with rolled up sleeves to wash blood soaked hands, and prefers to remain anonymous. He wants to stay hidden in shadow for fear of being photographed and become yet another target of this brutal regime. He’s removed the metal from the child’s eyes and shrapnel from other wounds but she is as yet unaware, she may never see again.

I’m quite a news addict and like to try and keep up with news on several different channels of what’s happening around much of the world.
It doesn’t matter what religion you are to feel compassion, empathy, sadness for others suffering. How can any country think themselves just and civilised when they are so willing to torture and kill their own, including their children?
It isn’t up to us to jump in and rescue everyone and yet, seeing a video a few days ago of a young father, wounded, laying next to his 2 year old baby son who had just died from shrapnel wounds which had come through the walls of their home.
It’s all so heart-breaking and I just hope that all these deaths and maiming’s will bring about their freedom before too many more innocents have to die.

What message are these children and, children in all such conflicts, learning.

If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children. Mahatma Gandhi

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #46