brutalised
i think about bombers
i think about missiles
i think about landmines
tanks burnt terrain
i think of shelled townships
apartments and warnings
the race to raid-shelters
and the nowhere-to-run-to
i think about mothers
fathers and daughters
sons sisters brothers
uncles and aunts
i think about cousins
grandparents grandchildren
i think of lost friends
dead scattered extended
hiding or cowering
throughout broken lands
i think about prisoners
i think of their keepers
of soldiers and sailors
and fighter plane pilots
the drone operators
switching off to go home
both the men and women
the bombarded civilians
ducking for cover
or dying in pain
i think of the sick
i think of the needy
i think of the children
i think of the injured
i think of those endlessly
damaged inside
i think of the thinking
that self-brutalises
i think of the brutal
and those brutalised
i think of their meaningful
now meaningless lives
i think of the brutal
of those brutalised
I think of the brutal
brutalised
© john william brown 16 August 2014
