(This poem was inspired by a New York Times article, quoting an eight year old boy as having said, "If I were the King of the world, I'd kill them all.") Dead Sea Eyes Floating corpse dreams sink in dead sea eyes on a little boy's face Dreams, murdered somewhere along the way between asinine brutality and finite sky, Afghanistan turmoil and Pakistan relief nations, like cleavers divide souls cut hearts in half The dreams linger incapacitated, bloated and mute salt cries from their skin infiltrating wounds of the living through angry stares and eye rolls intended for overseas. Then the dreams give up. The boy plays with sand piles now destroys them with his feet in a war fought out with sticks and sand drawing lines between uncertainty and loss good-guy, bad-guy, oil and water his porpoise eyes hang heavy shoes are long gone so it seems 'If I were King of the world,' he says 'I'd kill them all.' a little boy's dreams starting to hit home like bombs and the imminence of war. ~ Composed by Heather Neale Back to the Kits Writers Page Home