Remembering Children
This is no poem, but a dirge.
Neither sound in metre or rhyme,
But bears the silent message of rooms full of children
scorched in one criminal swipe.
They speak in stifled screams, which I transliterate,
Have a listen.
They might speak to you , too?
.
Here they are.
News Item:
****
Are there
any
shedding tears
.
for those
tiny little
faces
.
scorched to
charred
little bits
.
tossed into
little
spaces?
*
Were there books
were there
toys
.
were there
tricks
were there
ploys
.
color crayons
and
pencils?
,
Were there
laptops
and desktops
.
crepe paper
and
stencils ?
*
Did the
teachers
lead a song
.
and did they
all sing
along
.
maybe they had
other
plans
as schoolchildren
do
.
visit the library
perhaps
or a ride to
the zoo?
*
Did they have
a little
treat
.
did they jump
to their little
feet
.
to catch their
teacher’s
eye
.
and be up
close
and nigh
,
or try their
very
darndest
to be
the teacher’s
pet?
*
Did they pull on
their pig
tails
.
or paint
their pretty
nails
.
did they stare
out the
window
.
and think of
being
home
.
and how slow
time
must pass
.
till the end
of the
class?
*
Perhaps
there was
One
.
not at
all
at ease.
.
had heard
about the
Evil
.
not far from
their
shore?
,
perhaps her
mom
had told her
.
not to be
afraid
.
for god
was
in her heaven
.
and would come
to
their aid?
*
Heaven’s
alchemy
is not
easy to avail
.
that day Her
tender
mercy
.
was
to
miserably fail
*
And so the day
did drone
.
and there was
that lazy
lull
.
when all is
mottled
haze
.
and the
mind
just waxes
dull
*
And then sudden
sounds were
heard
was it a plane
or a
bird?
.
a wind blew
out the
windows
.
and teacher
cried : children
run!
*
And then the
bombs did
fall
.
many charred
instanter
.
some left
untouched
.
and
thence
a mighty fire
roared through
the hall
.
some little
voices
screamed
.
many soundless
swept away
.
then a few still
alive
climbed to their
feet
*
And there came
that
second thunder
.
blew building
clean
away
.
but one little
back pack
flew up
in the air
.
dripping with
precious life
blood
.
fell to
space
somewhere
*
The gallants
who
made the hit
.
miles and miles
away
toasted each other
.
gave themselves
high fives
.
this was success
to their
minds
.
high point
of their ’
lives
.
now to look
for
other marks
.
seeking yet
another
Prize?
*
In The
Beginning
.
the Primal
Scream
.
in The End
a muffled
cry
.
heaven
gave not
half a hoot
and let those
children
die
*
The
alchemy
of heaven
.
failed to
gild
the day
.
in deathly
stupefaction
Evil struck
and
flew away
*
So
I ask once
again
.
was there a tear
shed
that day
.
for all those
little scattered
souls
.
or was it
yet another
blistering victory
.
as befits
Their grisly
past?
*
Nature
repairs
all ravages
.
in her very
own
way
.
Time is
her
Apothecary
.
when we
be
in distrait
,
dispensing
solace
to our kind
every
diurnal day
*
The little souls
that
died
as their grieving
mothers
cried
now fire
the hearts
of (wo)men
the whole
world wide
risen
like a feral
storm
that will
never now
subside
*
Life is ever
for the
living
.
the dead
stay
buried
.
in
the dust
.
I write not
because
I want to
.
but
because
I must
[©R.Kanth 2026]