Scanning The Pages Of Newsweek Poem by Joni Moosman

While reading the pages of Newsweek I find you little one.
Dressed in pink with little feet, twisted and broken on blacken ground.
Thoughts collide and mini universes break without a sound
A colored photograph, my breaking heart on replay.
I place my hand over you as if to hold this little ball of tattered flesh, I pray.
God I am so defenseless without you I am nothing but clay.

The tears fall down my face like all the pictures round you small one.
All Mothers crying in everyday clothing and robes of black.
While sociopathic men dressed in robes of power lack,
any since of thought for this insignificant girl child.
Satan wears a mask called Hizbullah using men with angry faces wild.
The kingdom of evil is at hand these are who will kill a playing child.

My arms can not hold my own sons and daughter close enough tiny one.
Israel ’s soldiers mourn at funeral processions
Terrorist cry out, it is a holy war for transgressions.
God sees your dark places and false faces plans of senseless slaughter.
All for power and greed you kill your sons and daughters
Mothers raise your children to be our vestal martyrs.

I hold the horror of your picture in my heart and hand little one.
Dressed in pink with little feet, twisted and broken on blacken ground
I know God saw you fall, pick you up so the world could still go around
Evil men, cowards everyone will aspire to rule kingdoms with sandy shores.
Mothers will reach up to heaven with tear streaked faces crying out for no more.
War may take my sons, and all I can do is nothing so I shut the closet door.