Genocide. Poem by Graham Jones

Let them go, let them be
Let them savour something free
Time to run, sense the turn
No more tears or hearts to burn

See the fires, feel the heat
Once were human, now just meat
Ashen faces, bloodshot eyes
Suffering torment, hear their cries

Dust and rubble, raining shells
Count the hours, in private hells
Screaming nerves, stretched so tight
Childrens eyes so wide with fright

So much hate, no time for sense
Its predudice, without pretence
Their lands destroyed, laid waste and poor
No victory in a civil war.