A cry for peace

A Cry for Peace

Tons of gunpowder rain
over small roofs and narrow streets,
over little girls
who only learned to hold pencils,
not fear.

What storm is this
that turns grief into sermons
and calls death
a holy offering to God?

Do you think power bends forever?
Do you not see
the generations coming�"
a world of machines and minds
where even fire can be forged
in the silence of a home?

O ruler of the United States,
are the walls around you high enough?
Are the shields around your name
strong enough to silence the truth
that whispers through hidden files
and restless nights?

You reach for protection,
yet the hands that guard your throne
have shaken the peace
of ordinary families.

The weak were meant to be sheltered,
not buried beneath grenades.
Children were meant to dream,
not count the echoes of explosions.

So listen�"
before the world grows tired
of the noise of war.

Stop.
Turn back from the fire.

For all I ask of this wounded earth
is the quiet return
of peace
you once claimed
you were making.



Jessy Jacob