Streets Of Sadness. Poem by Graham Jones

Through the streets of sadness
Now veiled in mists of sorrow
Where hope is but an effigy
Of what may come tomorrow


Grime encrusted faces streaked
By tears that have no feeling
Their bodies and their senses numbed
In a place deoid of healing

Revenge and hate now fill the air
Amid the screams, the dead and dying
Burning rubber, dust and smoke
Caress a child no longer smiling

The bomb is indescriminate
Of the lives it tears apart
Blind to the chaos that ensues
Or the anarchy it starts.