A child of four years is complaining of his worries,
the television exploding nightly in his living room,
talk of nuclear bombs and he already fearful for the life
he barely knows.
Listening to the news, his father’s forehead wrinkles,
so he wrinkles his; feels that tautness inside but lacks
the words to ask what his worries are and how they got
to be inside him.
Night-time, he cries with the fear of the horrors lurking
in the dark corners of his bedroom, screams out of sleep
and carries those charred eyes into the following day to see
yet again torn bodies and buildings being heaped around him.
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