Mummy why do I have to die?

Mummy, when are they coming to help?

Life became a routine of terror and fear

Each time the terrorist devil’s planes drew near

The sirens would sound and the heart beat in fear

Time to flee underground

From the missile sound

Survive the night

With no light

The child with fear she can’t disguise

Looks into her mother’s eyes

And cries

‘Mummy when are they coming to help?’

Above the bombs are raining down

There are no military installations in this town

On the street lies the torn coloured clown

A child’s toy ripped to shreds

Nearby the burning hospital beds

Next door a bombed nursery

A shell destroyed the local pharmacy

A hell of hatred and misery

A future of nightmares not dreams

Bombs rain down the child screams

‘Mummy are they ever coming to help?’

Outside the bodies lie on the road for all to see

How does the mother tell her of the tragedy

Her siblings among the dead and children maimed in infancy

The blood stained blouse she wears

Torn apart and she wonders ‘Who cares?’

What does she tell the child?

Love by the enemy is reviled

The child watches a man walk in without an arm

Unable to understand the evil and the harm

The child sobs

‘Mummy is it true they are not coming to help?’

Can you really stand by and watch as children die

Can you not hear the strength of the child’s cry

Can you just sit and watch television and deny

Are we prepared to let them shed their blood

Fathers’ corpses lying in the mud

How does the mother try to hide

That they are the targets of genocide

How many people have to die

Before we really wonder why

Can you remain deaf to that child’s cry

‘Mummy can you tell me why I have to die?’

David Hopcroft March 2022