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
up above,
only moments before,
the roar of the jet 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,
dropping a laser-guided smart bomb
on a known terrorist safe-house,
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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