Syria sits in darkness,
our children locked in their living rooms.
Women make their way to the market
or wait at the food station.
The doctors have left for Europe,
the young men have joined the resistance.
Our Alawite friends have fled to Damascus.
A breeze rolls down the street by the kid’s playground.
A barrel bomb sits in the sandpit unexploded.
Two French nurses walk by carrying a coffin.
The words of peace at prayer time seem empty.
The children of Syria are starved of the joy of being children.
How many have died in this war I’m afraid to ask.
When the war ends who will be in charge?
They will tell us we need to rebuild, to work together for Syria.
When my husband comes home this evening
from the university,
I will say, ‘Tonight there will be no prayers.’
I am sick of praying and dying.
What can we do to help end the war?
Colm Scully is a poet from Cork, Ireland. He had his first collection published by New Binary Press in 2014. He has been published in many Irish magazines and has recently been published in Mexico’s Ofi Press and Cork anthology ‘On the Banks’. He makes Poetry Films which have been shortlisted in competition in Ireland and America, and shown at festivals in Kiev. Some of his poetry films can be seen on his Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/colm.scully.12