You call us forth
To be the future you imagine
You sing us a lullaby to safety
In the early dew of morning
We find our dimpled hands
Covered in blood
At night when we close our eyes
Explosions thunder
Ripping our skies apart
The taste of fear becomes normal
Tears become vacant
Lost
We cry once
Then no more
You call us your future
Bullets decorate our present
You call us your children
Childhood does not become a reality
You call us innocent
Does innocence know blood and loss?
Fear?
Grief?
When you look into our eyes
Do you find youth?
Or do you find the haunting of our experiences
Reaching out to you?
You scream at each other for years
For peace of land that could be home for all
Blood soaked into this land that you want
That you need
Do you notice that is the blood of your future?
Do you notice the mangled hearts and bodies
That decorate the ground?
You call this the holy land
But there is nothing holy about the blood
The fear that we,
Your children have experienced
There is nothing holy about the hatred
That covers us at night
You call us your future
Your children
Then teach us how to be holy
Not hateful and afraid