While the grills burn,
and hotdogs pop and sizzle,
While the sun shines,
and white clouds fluff like popcorn across the sky.
My own memorials weigh me down and I cry.
Rows and Rows of friends and family.
Rows and Rows of beaten and burned.
Rows and Rows of stories unlearned.
They at last lie in peaceful sleep.
But my eyes fill with tears and I weep.
Oh, spare me talk of hatred and glory,
Spare me your fear mongering and lies.
The dead fear nothing, only the deluded fear their brothers.
And only fools kill children and mothers.
While everyone weeps for their own children,
The dead sleep.
Fear saves no one.
Perfect security is impossible
The insecure with their bluster create perfect insecurity with their fear and anger.
I'd rather our children muddle on, muddle by.
Then create perfect insecurity with violence.
Let the popcorn pop and eat your hotdogs,
that is how we should remember these things,
Not by watering the earth with our tears.
Let me watch the little ones stumble around.
Let me hear the birds chirping and other sounds.
I don't like the sound of silence after a bomb blast.
I don't like the ringing it leaves in my ears.
I don't like watering the earth with my tears.
Rows and rows of flowers I want to see.
Bees that buzz, and trees that grow tall and strong.
Let's dance and build, and live and thrive,
nobody should be forgotten, we should all celebrate.
Maybe flowers can grow from my tears.
First written in 2012 -- updated 12/13/2015
Christopher H. Holte
http://fraughtwithperil.com/cholte/author/cholte/page/12/
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