Faye Sizemore

THE KILLING FIELDS

Police sirens wail… someone’s going to jail
in my neighborhood… once so quiet and good
One block over… masked man robbed a store
… shot the clerk dead as he exited the door

It’s so wrong… the killing fields are home…

Near the stoplight at the corner…
car still running… a slumped over owner
It’s so sad… and just too bad
Another drug deal has gone wrong

The killing fields have come home…

Heard the other day of a street gang
whom they say will just take aim
at any bandanna that’s not the same
Why don’t they all just get along

The killing fields will be their home…

‘Mommy shot Daddy right in his head…’
said a small voice… from under the bed.
It’s so wrong and it does not belong
Sad sight to see… a little tear -stained face

The killing fields were at his home place…

Special Forces soldier… only three weeks back
… home from that hot war in Iraq
‘Put the weapon down’… the police said
The soldier raised the gun… to his own head

The killing fields had claimed him dead…

Sniper… riding around the town…
picking his victims at random…
just some people to gun down
Not a drop of pity nor mercy shown

The killing fields have come home…

Author’s Note: Written after reading in the newspaper of a just-returned Iraqi Veteran involved in a stand off with police which resulted in the death of the soldier by suicide.