Dead Trees Speak (7) Poem by Orike Didi

Not all laughter
Comes in times of joy;
Some come in moments of pain.

It loathes to watch children
Walk boldly into assured death,
But what do we do? Cry for them?

It's offending to watch young graves
Covered by high mockery statistics,
But what do we do? Were they heroes?

The wise will surely sit back
And laugh at the long drawn knife
Of irony of life,
It slashes human nature into bits
And let people laugh
At the point of pain.

Some laughter is pain
Made manifest.