Not the yellow brick road
but footprints in ash.
Not the fullness of time
but a mother’s empty arms.
Not the birthday gift
but sudden loss unwrapped.
Not the echo of laughter
but fierce residual grief.
**************
When hope goes into hiding
it always loses face
as school becomes a wilderness
of broken desks and dreams.
No lesson now is left to teach
that does not hold a gun
and lie in wait for innocence
to end it on the street.
**************
Not a house still standing
but the memory of home.
Not a promise of peace
but a leader’s empty words.
Not another country
but forever here and now
Not a future yet to be
but the certainty of loss.
