A BITTER WORD
I taste bitterness in my mouth
each time I hear the word war.
It's a taste that's born of compassion
from a word that's been heard before.
Too young they die
not knowing why.
Too young they leave
and as we grieve
I hear that word again.
I spit from the bitter taste of it
and it still won't go away.
It's the same old word that drives me mad
and reminds me every day
that man is pliable in the hands
of ones whose insatiable need
never tastes bitterness in their mouth
from the word or from the deed.
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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