by Lynn White
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They waited patiently standing in line hunger made them quiet un-childlike too quiet for children standing in line. Who knew what they’d be when they grew up those children tinker, tailor, soldier, spy on our side or theirs whoever the us and them are. Now we know for certain that they’ll be none of those things now they’re scattered in bits and pieces bombed to bits just in case. Futures laid to rest in bits and pieces just in case.
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Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal, and So It Goes.
The last stanza breaks my heart.
The bombing must stop, let children be children