spilled ice-cream



I wrote this poem in the point of view of a 7-year-old boy enjoying his ice-cream before his life was snatched away within seconds. The language and observation was of a child’s. I’m not exaggerating but I really, really struggled to write this without feeling sick in my stomach. Children are very dear to me. They are innocent and require guidance from us adults. Every action we take might not affect us in the short-term but its echoes return eventually.

Darkness and evil feed on fear. Our minds want us to be fearful, always anticipating the worst. I wish, that each and everyone of us are strong enough to remain positive and above all, united. This is the first part, addressing the fear and suffering. Part 2 will be posted soon to liften the spirits of at least one of you who reads it.

Much love,

ema ๐Ÿ™‚ xo

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