I have dreamed of those:
In 2015 the people were at war
and fighting in the streets of Syria
Below a foreign God watched the cities bleed.
Under his view, children screamed into the dust
I’ll never understand why he allowed it.
Their father’s hands were the shade of loss
And the mothers held a photograph with a broken frame
They did not run today. They were soothed by memories of yesterday.
The world finds it challenging to think that
These people were once happy in a country of promise
But they no longer are there.
But someday they will be. The mothers smiling.
This is the struggle and pain of war.
It is colored with red. It is made of Tomorrows.
For it may bring sleep tonight
When fathers and mothers no longer bury children under God’s eye
Who walk the busy streets believing in Someday, Someday, Someday.
Kate Koenig is a History and English major at the University of Pittsburgh. She primarily writes novels and short stories. She also works as a photographer and currently is working on a photo series centered around the lives of Transgender individuals.
Leave a Reply