F r e e d o m

Eyes and hearts crying, hatred hailed from up above. 
A screech heard in the distance, one heard next door. 
She is screaming in the streets, they’ve taken her sons life away. 
He sits outside of his shops remnants, hopeless-helpless. 
Babies and children alike, with blood running down their soft cheeks. 
Hospitals running out of supply, threats of more chaos ensues. 
Children wailing for their mothers, with faces painted blue. 
“How can it be a war, if the only one fighting is you?”