Killing Of Children Poem by jan hansen

We kill children

They die in Gaza, tiny they are the dead children, some look like rag dolls smeared with blood drying in the sun.
Some have no arms or legs their school had been bombed our manufactured bombs which we say are only sold to a friendly nation.
A friendly country does not need bombs, the very notion is contemptible
I remember a song, 'Who are you kidding, mister Hitler.'
Children starving to death they have no food-banks
in Gaza, and as we know it is always the poorest
who have nowhere to hide.
The very rich have built bunkers to ride out the nuclear war the surely will come,
but will it be
a world worth living in for their children.
Every hour a child dies in Gaza. It doesn't make headlines anymore.
Gaza has sunk into the morass like Libya.
No longer a state but a hideout for people who sell children into slavery and pedophilia.
Every hour a child dies in Gaza