Behind the Wire

Behind the wire beauty lies

I see children at play skipping rope

Their mother looks down from the window above

Her heart filled with love and hope

The garden is green, full of flowers,

The birds frequent there every day,

The neighbourhood is bustling and the sun shines upon,

The children, innocent, at play

The building is painted bright colours,

Bright murals adorn the stone wall

Painted with love by those who live there,

The children had painted them all

Music is heard through the open window,

Followed by the mother in song,

The children who know every word,

Begin to sing along

On the surface the song sounds uplifting,

On the surface the words appear glad,

But if you listen closely you will notice,

That the message conveyed's in fact sad

I no longer can see children playing,

Hear singing, or see walls coloured bright,

Instead I can only hear a mother's praying,

For her children who died in the fight

The garden is taken over by weed and rubble,

And through the wire graffiti is splayed

As cold as the cold stone walls

Where once, happiness was displayed

But amidst the trail of destruction,

Behind the wire three red poppies stand tall,

Restoring hope to a new generation,

And love, within its walls

This poem was inspired by a photo taken by a very talented friend of mine, Robyn Carter