The man knelt by the roadside dust and rubble all around

Houses stood there yesterday but now razed to the ground

He gazed around with glassy eyes he could not understand

He was but a poor old man that lived from off the land.


All his meagre cattle had fled or else had died.

His crops such as they were alas were shrivelled up and dried.

The only things that he possessed he held there in his hand.

Some photographs a bible tied with elastic band.


His family alas no more, were underneath the soil

Wrapped in sheets their poor remains buried by his toil

The blast had killed so many - young and old alike

They never had a warning when the bombers they would strike


He lifted up his eyes and cried, ‘Tell me, tell me why,

Why me Lord that is what I ask?’ he gazed into the sky

As if he’d get an answer to his frantic cries

Would he ever know the reason, the wherefores and the whys?



(c) Pamela  M. Brooke





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