This beautifully written and poignant poem is by Nikhil, on his site WEIRDLY WIRED, is re-blogged here with permission. Thanks, Nikhil!
As Mediterranean waves evaded a violent shore,
A frail face lay in peace, at the confluence of war.
Birds swam seeking refuge in boatloads,
A few sank, like an island full of toads.
Terror, tears, shock, and blank concern,
How did the world allow its people to burn?
Passionate vows, pious pleas overflew worldwide,
An audacious hope of morality bona fide.
Sadly, that was not to be!
Time, forgetfulness – proved a great healer.
Haunting face sitting in an ambulance
Three-year-old eyes, dusty and bloodshot with innocence.
Shock, cry, surprise, alarm – a bit too far,
Unnerving calm and silence – fury and chaos of war.
The world’s conscience still ceases to be troubled,
All the piety did not move the world.
No change, no action – not a trace,
If only this had been a rare face.
SOMETIMES 
That is one amazing feature image.
My reading of the poem is timely in that I shared an article on facebook today about who is running our international aid department (it has another title, but that is one of its roles). The article states that the UK currently allocates 70p in every £100 to international aid. The two ministers in place are likely to axe this allocation …. I can feel an impassioned post in the making. A poignant poem indeed.
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these jobs are always given to hacks that have no clue and could not care less! helping the poor and devastated should be done by someone who cares…not as a favor. it’s always what’s in it for me?
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