I Can't Fathom It Poem by Mark Heathcote

I can't fathom it.
Burning embers in a hospital tent
Living flames waving arms
Crying out woken from sleep.
Air strikes from above
Many killed wanting help, a sign of love.
Wanting some privileged relief
Some relaxation to survive the night.
 
I can't fathom it.
The pace of war, not the destruction anymore.
The inhumanity
What are tears for
If not for heaps of burning ashes on the floor.
A boy not yet twenty
Who fought to live another day
Snuffed out days before his birthday.
 
I can't fathom it.
Infants -dying waiting for adoption.
Rockets -built instead of the milk of human kindness.
It's all so tragic.
In a year from now or a few years
No none will remember.
The sick and wounded burning in a hospital tent
Least -of all, the bomb makers who never show any lament.