A town of grief and tears and bombs,
A family home in downtown Homs;
Where screams are heard and lives are dashed
And loves are lost and dreams are trashed.
A spray of bullets line the halls,
And dots of blood adorn the walls.
The bodies lay upon a heap;
With eyes that stare, but never weep.
A tiny finger hugs a bear,
But finds no solace hiding there.
A mother reaches out in vain;
A lullaby that ends in pain.
The mortars fly, the bombs explode
To rip apart a small abode.
Then neighbors come to search debris
And find the horror plain to see.
The men who wield the guns and might,
They think their purposes are right,
But nothing in their war is tame,
And all they have is death and shame!
Note: This past week, Syrian dictator, Bashar Assad, unleashed a brutal military assault on the citizens of Homs. Families were massacred; the bodies of women and children were found littering the floors. The dead deserved to be remembered as the precious human beings they were.
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