Screaming mothers clutch onto their dead infants.
Bombs blind the eyes of the dead.
The little girl with the wide eyes watches while hugging her kitten.
The fathers are shot at point blank range.
Why have the mothers lost their sanity?
Why have the fathers abandoned their families?
The dead tell us why but we cannot hear.
Me, the little girl with the wide eyes, watches with tears.
When will this masquerade end?
When will life feel comfortable again?
When will I feel at home?
Too much fighting, too many tears.
My house.
