The same old story, without the twist.
The emperors (so many of us hide
under the solitary ‘s’ of the plural), the
emperors in their robes of peace and
equality and rights and righteousness,
walking the power ramps, the digital
streets, the mind spaces, walking through
crowds who see them, see through them,
crowds that are smiling, swiping, cheering,
unheeding, uncaring. In the story, it was
a child who said that the emperor wore
no clothes at all. Who will shout now
that so many children, over a hundred
a day, are silenced under the rubble?
THOUGHT PURGE 
Rajani, none suffer more than innocent children 😦 War kills innocence in every way 😦
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A devastating indictment:
“Who will shout now
that so many children, over a hundred
a day, are silenced under the rubble?”
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Speaking for those children under the rubble is what you have done in your fine poem, Rajani. Truly, my old heart cant take much more of the horrible suffering we are witnessing.
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Such a sad poem. The emperors are certainly getting above themselves at present. I’ve been watching short videos on Facebook. There are a lot of people airing some very uncomfortable truths.
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I wonder too… the crowd is too large, and how can you condemn one without praising the other or reverse.
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Oh this fits so well to the war prompt… so many children lost
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Thanks Bjorn…decide to add my voice when I saw the prompt and read several linked poems.
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Guess it’s the EMPEROR(s) turn now…the so called rulers of the world…with unfettered “powers”…
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