When War Comes
by Cherry Ann Farrell
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When War Comes Her world was small Knowing so little about from where she came Where she lived, the world at large Living through war and losing The loved ones she barely knew Wars are just black clouds, evil outcomes No rhyme or reason for suffering All her history could fit in the biscuit tin Empty now – nothing left But a faint memory blurred and scattered as imperceptible as the ashes of a butterfly wing incinerated in a forest fire. |
