untitled - 22 march, 2016

some days you walk through hell,
unscathed - sometimes.
but today is not one of those
days.

bomb blasts, pain, horror, death -
become nonchalant afterthoughts
in the media-frenzied aftershock
of waiting for more news.

until the cycle repeats again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and again.

when will this all be enough?

until only cockroaches remain
on the dusty ashes
of towns and tombs
amid the shrapnel of
what once were
men with guns claiming
this bit of land their own -

until a hundred years from
now, someone else will do the same.

© eleanor clark
22 march, 2016