POEM
by Shah J. Choudhury
There was a time when war meant strategy, geopolitics, and the balance of power.
Now, war means something else entirely—
It means the disfigured faces of countless children,
whose cries are muffled beneath the earth that buried their families,
whose childhoods are burned in the fire and thunder of bombs.
War is never just between states—
It is a war against humanity, against innocence,
and against the very future of our world.
Be it Israel-Gaza, Russia-Ukraine, Afghanistan, or Sudan—
The same haunting question returns:
Who were these children enemies of?
They only wished to draw with crayons, to walk to school,
to fall asleep safely in their mother’s arms at dusk.
And yet war took their lives—
their limbs, their laughter, their little dreams.
Their entire childhood reduced to rubble.
These children, now maimed, orphaned, displaced, or dead—
what if one day, their souls stand face to face
and ask:
“Whose fault was it that our lives ended this way?”
What will the statesmen say?
What will arms dealers or diplomats answer?
Will they call these children “collateral damage”?
My conscience rebels.
My heart screams—
Will this world ever offer a future worthy of its children?
Or are all its developments meant only for adults?
We, who do not want war—
We, who seek peace over blood—
Let our voices rise clear and unwavering:
A child’s tears are not a language of politics;
They are the loudest failure of humanity.
For every war that ends, ten more are ignited by those who profit from them.
They know:
If we can silence even one child’s cry,
perhaps we can stop the next war before it begins.
And yet, they keep fueling the fire.
I know—there may be no solution in a world ruled by selfish motives.
Still, I leave this as a question mark—
in hopes that it might stir even a fragment of conscience
in the hearts of nations, of powers, of people.
May all the world’s children live in peace.
May all nations, all people, learn to love—
beyond borders, beyond divisions.
About the Author: The writer is a quiet patriot who believes that humanity, peace, and love rise above politics. His pen is his protest, and the cries of a silent heart are his language. He chooses not war, but a world where children laugh—and where hope is possible.
