Children of War

So solemn-like,
The grim spectacle--
Dying children
With stoical grin,
Innocent of war
But sharing a part
In the struggle of man.

With bleeding heart
They get a thrill
At a zooming plane
Flying overhead
And bombing again,
Not learning to shelter
From war-time's fate
Until a bursting shell
Makes it too late.

And the crying babies
In the cradle share
The fate of man's battle
For land and air.
Beneath the war clouds
In death they lie,
Too young to know ...
Too young to die.

~M. Minot