The Doomed Children A Blank Verse Thundering in the sky, then rain of missiles... See how they are fleeing arms outstretched Like the broken wings of storm-hit birds, And see their faces white with fear and hunger And hear their throbbing voice of pain and loss... Over their head, the sky's no kites, no clouds, But fire and fire amidst engulfing smoke, And they are running like the Napalm girl From Vietnam or standing piteous, like The standing boy from Nagasaki, before Their elders who are whispering in fear Or staring helpless in the gauge of Death... They are the hapless children caught in war zones. They have no home, no school, no ground of freedom, But sole refugee camps and hospitals If marching death has spared them of their life. They hear not bedtime tales but sirens of death. For them, the...