Time For Us To Go
It could have been Jerusalem, Niger or Belfast,perhaps it was Manhattan or Munich in the past.
The place seemed unimportant, as did the time of day,
I did not know what to do, except, perhaps, to pray.
As I surveyed the carnage, the twisted hellish scene,
I asked for comprehension, just what could this life mean?
Dead and dying everywhere, I stood by the abyss,
the blast destroyed so much, but the point I seemed to miss.
A tiny body lie there, a child no more than three.
Who could it have harmed so much, was truly beyond me.
Too young to be a Christian, a Muslim or a Jew,
could have been of any race, its skin had lost its hue.
What the hell is this about? I heard my spirit cry,
is there any reason here, please someone tell me why?
Suddenly a voice called out, from where I did not know,
'No more need to worry Dad. Come on... it's time for us to go.
© 2001 Andy Davie
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