The minor diplomat

So much war today has colored the thinking
and attitudes of children, no longer are they
scared of war sirens or regret the golden age
of security found in the lap of their mothers.
They now clamor to watch dog-fights and play

kids' version of gang fights as if a civil war
at home. By erecting a war-plant here and setting
a minefield there, in playground, they learn
not all about life but practice what life is all
about. Led astray into the path of the bomb ,

one simulates how someone as kamikaze
or suicide bomber, has blown himself to pieces
at a crowded summer shores, causing piles
of innocent casualties. Minor diplomats in
belted raincoats, read the papers

of capitulation by bomb light, pretending to be
victorious and hailed as war hero. A few mimic
peace deal, dictating terms of cease-fire, with cold
hug and adder's kiss, to apparently defeated
generals. Others walk with a limp or

hop on crutches as if war wounded veterans, saluted
by the public as if virtually they are living
on the planet of war and the world at large awaits
the day when a child could ask his mother 'what
was war'.

Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 93 times
Written on 2022-06-28 at 18:12

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