Square Box

Hi bloggers,

I am writing the following poem for Sunday Whirl.  

Rosie believes the world reveals its face through a square box

When mama waves her black wand

The square box clicks on and an image waltzes in

With stories and tales that shipped beyond her land

She struggles to understand the world with infant eyes

As horror sweeps against her mother's face

It is like the shock of pain

When she can find no shelter from the rain

And the promise of sunlight dissolves into the clouds

Rosie observes the countless evenings spent in front of the box

As the world thrives on blood

She skinned her knee once, out came a drop of red

But on the screen blood sheds like a river

Men in anger and hate cry infidels

Rosie does not know this word but fears it is a boogie man

While land and sea is consumed by black smoke

Mama tugs her baby tight and whispers a bomb

But her heart refuses to harden in darkness

Rosie is nurtured in love, resilience, and peace