We are your children,
I beg you, stop killing us.
We have for so long,
fallen to old banners.

“Terror is so great, so mighty.
It must be fought and slain.”
You say, as we count our dead,
and treat the broken-hearted.

Take your photos of us,
our weeping faces over
the broken bodies we loved.
Sell our story to the populace.

You tell us we are strong,
that we can survive
this tragedy in stride.
We don’t need platitudes.

Hate us, quell us, kill us
when it suits you to.
But when we are broken,
you pretend to love us still.

We are human, people,
lives forever unfolding.
I beg you, stop killing us,
we are your children.