November 30, 2003 - Iraq
How many women are weeping tonight,
clenching their hearts in despair
over the shreds of husbands they have
lately kissed, lovers and sons they have
cradled, now feasted on by flies?
If someone had slain my lover last night,
my heart would shriek into a thousand pieces,
would slash at all life with the blood
beat stop of disbelief. I can feel their raw
hearts pumping, unbridled, in mine.
And I stagger here for the love
they can no longer feel,
begging you, world, for peace.