Gone
This, a non-important
Yet essential thought:
Millions being bombed to death:
Gone in depth. In breath.
But only TV numbers mentioned on
The media.
Where is sympathy,
The empathy?
Empty as one well can see.
I don’t imply indifference,
But ignor-ance to the -nth degree.
Ukraine War
Is more than
Just a Russian thing.
It is the killing
Of the conscious, feeling and reactive being.
It’s the loss of future genius,
Future talent,
Future global gifts.
It’s blood and pain.
Yes, I complain.
Complain when
Features,
Animal, plant, human creatures
Are destroyed.
Toyed with for no patent reason –
Only blatant and outlandish reasons.
Concocted by some mad dictator and orator
Living in a crater of deception –
Probably his own.
Gone is over.
Gone’s no more.
Six feet under.
Gone is fallen, past, asunder.
Gone is done with.
I complain.
For what is slain
and who is slain.
For all the pain they’ve undergone
For all the pinning hopes on high.
Statistics can but signify.
Gone 5.8.2022 War Book; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 