Women And Three Small Children Poem by Thomas Thompson

December 11,2014 - May 19,2015

Woman and Three Small Children

As dawn crept to mid-morn
I sat withdrawn in my corner of the bus
Slowly lurching it's way towards the Silver Bird
Waiting impatiently to whisk me away
From a land in a war wrong from the beginning

My last day after two years and more
My only goal as I yielded to forces beyond my control
Was to survive 'til I left on my feet or in a box
It mattered not
Either way I would no longer be where I should never have been

I looked up as I felt the sun's warmth crack the dawn
And saw a woman and her three small children
Silhouetted as they walked single file on the crest of a hill
Two hundred meters away or so
And suddenly realized I had calculated the distance and how many rounds to take them out

To kill the woman and her three small children
Who were also struggling one day at a time
Their only sin being alive in a land torn asunder
As they too strived to survive
In a war not of their making

I recoiled in horror at what I had just done
Targeting a woman and her three small children
Shocked at what I had become trying to survive
Using vernacular's salve to stave off reality buried in the horrors of war
In a land impossible to know who was innocent or who was not

They haunt me still that woman and her three small children

Tommy