I held her in my arms,
as the life slipped from her
small, frail body,
she couldn't have been more
than 7 or 8 I thought,
as I looked into her cold,
lifeless eyes,
staring blankly into the clouds
above,
only moments before
the scream of incoming artillery
shells had filled the
afternoon sky,
then a blinding light, followed
by deafening
sound;
then silence;
now this child,
lay broken and torn
in my bloody arms,
I had seen her in the
neighborhood before,
always laughing,
always smiling,
beautiful;
innocent;
later the news would
say the attack was a
coordinated effort
by government forces,
on known anti-government
strongholds,
killing 15 with only minor,
collateral damage and loss
of life;
all-in-all a pretty good
day for the 'good guys'.
.
.
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