This poem may be “controversial,”
Sensitive, or delicate.
But the roar of a tiger can never be silenced.
The echo of my voice will keep on defying.
Defining the issues.
Addressing the problem.
The bombs.
The lives.
The deaths.
If an infant child was crying, 
Would you stand there and watch?

We are butterflies, nestled,
Blissfully unaware in little cocoons.
While all around us,
Starvation is faster,
And throat-handles the children,
While thirst for water cuts off circulation.
But even secluded and hidden,
The butterfly must never be too comfortable.
And so as we,
Must not forget all the others.
Slaughtered and suffering,
Begging for aid 
That we cannot offer?
If an infant child was crying,
Would you stand there and watch?

A parent strives for justice,
Reparation for their losses.
Battles mental and physical,
While the other remains cynical.
And as if never elapsing,
The fighting sees no ending.
We cannot stand in wait for peace.
Our silence is deafening.
We are still
As lightning strikes and clashes against.
A body in angst.
And suffering,
Suffering is free.
Suffering neverending.
If an infant child was crying,
Would you stand there and watch?

The children lack an option.
They have no choice in desperation.
Remaining in
Separation
From loved ones who flee.
Starving, in need
Of something to drink.
No will, no goals.
No conviction.
Unable to continue the battle.
Against death, luring them in.
As happiness,
As calmness and serenity,
Becomes more sparse.
By the hour.
By the minute.
By the second.
How important can justice be?
How many will be murdered?
How many will be slaughtered?
Until all parties remain at peace?
And what can we as individuals complete?

What actions can we take?
Instead of waiting for war to break.
If an infant child was crying,
Would you stand there and watch?