What were they fighting for?

Recently I read this book called “First they killed my father ” by Loung Ung . This book is about cambodian genocide . After reading this book I realized how war and genocide leads to ruin of innocent people while the hegemony behind thechairs flourish and grow. I felt so overwhelmed after reading this book and while I was scribbling something about it in my diary to let it out I came up with this poem.

No poem or story can ever convey what people at war feels but still they should be written and read so that these horrific wars and genocide can be avoided in future. I will suggest that you read this book and I think you will feel what I wanted to convey through my poem that I have shared below.

Bombshells rained from the sky,

and her flipflop turned grey and white.

Bombshells rained from the sky,

and her mother turned into a heap of bones,

and her father never returned home.

Home which a minute ago,

was happy and warm,

was now black and cold.

With her tiny palm wrapped around her brother’s finger,

she watched the horror unfold,

-The bricks of her school quivered and crumpled,

and books that levitated her to land unknown,

turned into a pile of ashes and bleary smoke.

Green lush field fertile and wild,

metamorphosed into a patch of unfertile grave.

Families turned homeless and kids became orphan.

The cries and shrieks pierced her ears.

She knew her childhood was set ablaze,

and her brother’s youth would bleed and bleed for years to come.

Her city so beautiful and bright,

became a pile of burnt flesh and dream.

She lost her everything,

while the hegemony got drunk,

and rolled the dice.

The innocent people gave their blood,

to fill the veins of their raging guns,

and humanity became an empty vessel.

The loudspeaker like the death march groaned,

it’s a war,

it’s a war,

while she wondered and sobbed,

“What were they fighting for?”


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