Sunday, January 2, 2011


The following is an original poem by G. Laidlaw. © Copyright by the author. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

Collateral Damage

A broken doll,
Falls from the hand
Of a crying little girl.
Her baby brother's
Vacant eyes,
Reflect the bruises on her heart.
They huddle,
Together in the closet
Like rabbits
In the headlights of an oncoming car.
In the kitchen,
The heat of battle warms the blood
Of generals; 
Too blinded
By the thrilling familiarity
Of their own private war,
To notice the blood
Of innocent casualties,
Soaking the battleground.


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