Ant Dam Poems

Ripped apart by imperial dreams.
Innocent cry as artillary screams.

World leaders lead from far and few.
...

As the sun settled into a night's dream, its light dimmed into peaceful somber.
Its light and colors transformed and disappeared into the evening sky of the past.

In daylight, his warmth was felt and loved by all he met, even when shade and cloud would test his mood in bursts of shadow and darkness, his light prevailed.
...

Left they woke from a slumber of dreams offensive, no word safe from politically correct.

These heroes of marches and 1 hour hunger strike a tone of a genderation of victims, scarred all but by a war of offensive dictionary.
...

Don't cry, little one.
No bombs will harm you.
Keep your eyes closed.
Close your eyes, everyone, as the bombs fall and destroy our homes.
...