years later
he would remember
how they had all felt the same:
hunger
fear
grief
gore
all knotting in his little stomach
always mistaking
one for the other
he would get a piece of
dry bread when
he cried,
a hug from a
one-armed stranger
when he was
hungry
he still pushed
food around his
plate when
he was alone
never sure
what the noise was
never sure
why he had
started eating
***
For Sumana’s prompt at What’s going on: From a Child’s POV
THOUGHT PURGE 
This is heartbreaking. There are way too many children who suffer. Yet, there are those who are able to find peace and hope, and escape a world that brings such pain.
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Thanks Susie.
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So sad….
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Thank you, Cindy… heartbreaking….
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Rajani,
It’s hard to comprehend how much little children may have been exposed to horrifying situations and experiences and yet, are expected to move on…No doubt it sits within their minds..
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It’s troubling indeed. Thanks Eileen.
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This is very interesting and certainly gives a unique perspective to how we see life and its consequences. There is a lot to take in here. thank you.
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Thanks Alan.
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This poem captures what goes on in a traumatised childs mind so well.
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So sad. It’s like you have given words to those haunted children’s faces that stare out of the TV at me when I watch the News.
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Thanks Suzanne… they are absolutely heartbreaking. Nothing seems to make a difference to those waging war though.
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I’ve been thinking about this war and read some radical ideas. I’ll send you an email explaining them. 🙂
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“hunger
fear
grief
gore
all knotting in his little stomach”
PTSD is a tight knot, maybe impossible to unravel. And we are all to blame for the next few generations–who survives, what they know, and what they are capable of. Powerful poem in its understatement, simplicity.
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Thank you, Susan. It comes from all those videos of the children expressing sheer anguish…totally unable to process what they’ve seen and endured.
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Breathtaking – if only this type of memory was the stuff of imagination .. to that day .. when no child, anywhere remembers such.
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Amen to that… no child needs to be exposed to suffering and war, anywhere.
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I love how kids can be resilient and somehow find a way to play amid times of danger and turmoil, because that’s all they really want, to play with playmates and forget themselves in the moment. No child should ever have to suffer like this.
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Absolutely. No child. Anywhere. Such a shame.
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We can’t even imagine what these poor traumatized children go through during such times. Yes, they will remember this if they survive. What’s humanity without compassion? Sigh.
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Absolutely, well said. Where is the compassion?
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It’s what the perpetrators of war never seem to grasp – that what they put people through will never be unseen. And in many cases it leads to hatred and resentment that will last a lifetime and lead only to further conflict. It’s been this way all of my life and it’s still as depressing as it ever was.
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It is telling that when he finally does get food he is so traumatized he pushes it around on his plate. These children will grow up so scarred, possibly to perpetuate the division and hatred that has caused these horrors. Not their fault. I had to write about them too. This should not be happening.
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Agree. Should not be happening.
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” hunger
fear
grief
gore
all knotting in his little stomach
always mistaking
one for the other ”
This is quite stark really. I can imagine this….and understand how a child might feel that way in such a dreadful and painful world, if that is ALL they know, if that is their reality.
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Thanks Mary. Video after video of little children describing what they’ve seen and felt – quite heartbreaking.
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It’s good to remind ourselves that war, violence or persecution doesn’t just stop when it ends physically. It stays with someone, provokes a response, for their whole life.
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Thank you, Bob…I don’t know how those children will ever unsee the horrors of the last few months…
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I don’t think they ever will Rajani. I have known survivors of war and bombing – my father for example was bombed as a child. Many cannot talk about it unless there is therapy. In WW2, there was no therapy, only a cup of tea, and then get on with it.
Dad was a born talker, befriended everyone – so he was OK. By the time he told me the tale, he only shook a little.
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Thank you for sharing this, Kim. It makes me feel hopeful that at least some of the kids can look forward to full lives. Almost. Am so glad your dad’s nature and outlook worked well for him. This poem came from all the videos of the kids describing in detail how they lost so much. Such little kids too.
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