Babykiller

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem takes a hard look at the price developing nations pay to sustain Western prosperity.

Submitted: April 13, 2008

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Submitted: April 13, 2008

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Children are starving in lands far away--
I don’t have to look at them, to stare into their eyes;
I don’t have to see their labored breaths,
To see their swollen bellies
And watch them die
Slowly,
Miserably,
Painfully.
I don’t have to listen to their mothers cry,
To see the tears fall,
To see their hearts break in two,
And watch them die
Slowly,
Miserably,
Painfully,
And now alone.

But the fat cats turn their profits
And build their mansions on the graves of dead children
And mothers.
And boys will kill boys in lands far away
To fuel the Wall Street greed
Of the land of the free
And the home of the brave.

I just wonder:
How many babies have I killed?


© Copyright 2017 Chris Myers. All rights reserved.

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