A tear falls silently
down a wrinkled cheek to land
upon a faded picture, held in
unsteady hands, of parents and
siblings.
Families torn from the comfort
of their homes to be herded
and slaughtered and discarded
into nameless graves.
Pages turned in a dusty volume
to reveal a clipping, yellowed with age,
as power and insanity rage,
broken cross ordaining their upper sleeves
and greed eternally in their eyes.
Haunted eyes, silent cries,
pleas for food not always given,
dirty, bony bodies and frail arms praying
for salvation as they slowly die
from disease and starvation.
Memories flash across a screen of horror,
of things done wrong,
memories wished to be forgotten,
yet remain crystal clear.
Mothers hold those left
to them and those already gone,
sanction of showers never returned from,
pitiful tears of children not understanding
what went wrong. . .
And the witness silently
cries on.
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