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