The Dealers of Death

I am the hungry child,
I am the sick child,
I am the dying child,
And I am waiting,
Waiting for the bombs to drop from the clear blue sky.

I am the mother, the nurturer, the carer,
I am the homemaker, the milk giver, the healer,
I am the teacher, the guardian,
I am the watcher,
Looking to the skies,
For their birds of devastation,
Bringing death and desolation on their wings.

I am the man child,
The forced conscript.
I am the arm of the dictator,
I am freedom bound and chained,
I am the purveyor of another's dreams.
And I am waiting,
Waiting for the glory hunters,
Seeking power from the skies.

I am waiting for their rain,
Of broken bodies, cities wracked
With shards of broken glass,
Severed fingers and mother's pain,
Bloodied children, smoke blackened rubble,
And humanity crushed by man's inhumanity.

I am the pilot, the soldier of vested interests,
I am the arm of the mighty,
I am dollars paid and banked,
I am democracy ruled by the WTO,
And I come to kill in the name of Congress,
From far, far up in my sleek black bird,
Where the cries of the dying just cannot be heard.