Bombs Before Breakfast Poem by Patti Masterman
Bombs Before Breakfast
Bombs before breakfast, blasts just at noon-
Hurry and sup, before we all swoon.
A leg flying by, we pretend not to see,
As we're remembering freedom's not free.
Fingers on stairwells, crushed by a wall,
Buildings much shorter that once were so tall.
Children are silenced both early and late-
Not from mere etiquette- no; cruel hand of fate.
World turns its head, or else fans the flames,
History forgetting our faces and names.
If this doesn't matter, this right here and now;
How can anywhere matter, any time- and how?
very nice poem... I could imagine what are you saying if those happen in my neighborhood..it will be flatten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:51:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
well, Patti, in the 'greater scheme of things' (as i think someone else once said) ..........this doesn't matter. so go back to your pancakes and TV gab fest and DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT! BRI :) nice work. especially liked: Fingers on stairwells, crushed by a wall, Buildings much shorter that once were so tall. Children are silenced both early and late- Not from mere etiquette- no; cruel hand of fate. ......................liked? well, you know what i mean, i hope. bri :) to MyPoemList