A tiny tear falls from my eye

For each and every death

Another suicide bomb goes off

And snuffs out human breath.

They blow themselves for principles

That we don’t understand

If they are right —if we are right

It still means blood-stained land.

For pity’s sake each life that’s lost

Just hardens attitudes against

We have to talk to stop their deaths

And negotiate without constraints.

Each innocent life that gets destroyed

Is a wasted friend or lover

A murdered mother or father

Or a dead sister or brother.

This surely cannot go on forever…

©Joe Wilson – A tiny tear…2014