White Plastic Sheet Poem by Amy J Richardson

The ups and downs of the terrorist towns,
A million smiles replaced by frowns.
Who would believe that the world could be,
So brutal as to kill a child of three.
That child of three took a shot to the chest,
But the gunmen don't care, she'll just die like the rest.
They slaughter their families and ruin their homes,
Then shoot them all down and scatter the bones.
They laugh at their fear as the children all fled,
Then took pride from the fact that they shot them til dead.
They walk through the streets not a shadow of guilt,
Nor a dropp of remorse for the blood that they've spilt.
So many dead, so many more dying,
So many children bleeding and crying.
It makes not a difference to their blackened heart,
Not a tear of sadness for the lives torn apart.
Think of the mothers filled with terror and dread,
think of the children either orphaned or dead.
So many infants here took their last breath,
now the dirt is stained with the stench of death.
The sight now is tragic as women line the streets,
to search for their babies beneath white plastic sheets

We switch on the news and our spirits fall down,
It's another report from a terrorist town.
The hysterical women stare down at their feet,
And search through the bodies, beneath that white plastic sheet.


-Thursday 9th September 2004, age 17 -