We come here to mourn today
all those who have gone away
and perished by like specks of dust
in sudden and swiping gust–
And all those who wondered Why?
Why am I about to die?
What’s this war all about?
And who had given you the clout–
to take my life?
A cry.
A gasp.
One last breath.
Senseless hate.
Man-made Death.
*
©Yakira Shimoni Fulks Art and Poetry
April 27, 22 | OC CA
