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Array
(
[sid] => 43712
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Killing Time
[time] => 2004-04-18 02:28:53
[hometext] => Inspired to write this by images of war from a news report.So many innocent victims are left scarred by a war they never wanted
[bodytext] => A dead look in her pretty brown eyes Where excitement in the mystery of life should have been No smile, as if forgotten, banished from memory A child no longer childlike, too many years lived in each day Carried in her mothers arms, head pressed tight against her hair I followed through the streets, an eerie stillness filled the sky No words from them, lost in worlds I pray never to join Gunshots mark the minutes, the hours, weeks and days Through emptyness I followed, mesmerised by this little child Eyes looking at me, somehow looking through me Cold and lifeless, clinging to her mothers comfort Innocence lost forever, too young for the killing time This shell of a city, stretched out before me Brushed aside and crumbled into dust, its limbs ripped away Was I walking into hell, merely following ghosts I hoped it was a nightmare, that I'd waken from sleep The mother stopped, put down her child, still clinging to her hand A small face turned to look at me, my heart sank like a stone Distorted features came to view, deep wounds from this sickness called war Destroyed forever in a blast of fire , that quelled the fire within So pale was she, a pawn in the game A life to be toyed with by the leaders of men To those with the power I beseech you, look again Give back the dawn to the children before you, too young for the killing time [comments] => 3 [counter] => 171 [topic] => 48 [informant] => puppy_dog_eyes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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