And the dust rose like tuberculosis,
nimbus clouds of red smoke rising off of the ground,
as the feet of the children walked in straight lines,
parallel from one another,
on opposite sides of the road.
Shots rang out,
but not even an eye blinked in response,
to what you and i,
would cringe under,
like toddlers under the knife,
with no anasthetic.
The desert goggles of the marauders,
were placed on their foreheads,
leaving an outline around their,
piglike squinting eyes,
as they looked at the future ahead of them,
in terms of a target to be annhilated on a digital screen,
no place lived for them,
people were insects,
these boys with no shoes,
begging with hands upraised,
they were insects,
reluctantly they hand them chocolate,
if only just to save face ,
with their weak kneed commander.
The city looms ahead,
with minarets,
rising like phallic nightmares,
as the muezzin call,
moved through the air,
a benediction for some,
a reminder for others,
of a world they would never understand.
Lock and load said the marauder,
as the children glared up, with undisguised loathing,
and on ,
and on,
and on. |
Submission Name: And the Dust Rose like Tuberculosis
