What is Right Prose Poem by Craig Spence
The beautiful child, in her room playing. Innocent, perfect, a state of bliss... Then her mother’s desperate script scrawled on the little one’s back… just in case. The urban street, canyoned with its places of life and living, its balconies... Then the bombs, the collapsed concrete charred walls, the ruinous graffito of war. The proud citizens of a prosperous nation in cafes, parks, places of congregation... Then the broken bodies on sidewalks, in bags disposed of as if they were... Memories to be erased, Their very names defaced. Their truth denied… …in broad daylight and cold blood. Who takes pride in this? Strutting like a hero though the devastation of a nation, ‘cleansing’ planned and executed strategically as a stupid game of chess by those who invent then sell the cruel calculus of mutual conflagration. We will not forget... will we? here on the brink of our war to end all wars? We will do what is right? Won’t turn our backs, as if business as usual can go on, and on, and on? Let us remember here and now: It’s you and me trudging in the long, tired lines of refugees, Our children we must mourn Our cities being burned Our freedoms dashed. Let’s ask: Where does this madness end? Then do what is right! Video reading & more at CraigSpenceWriter.ca/stop-war
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