Sticks and Stones /or/ Children’s Bones

bricks scattered and stacked high
the bloody mortar mixed with tears
and bones and flesh a darker shade
than the bombs colonial clouds bring

chemicals alter the minds for approval
where white makes right their slogan
is swallowed with the children’s cries
an adrenalized elixir on the rocks

oh, how low the elite will go to get high
and complete their filthy collections
by filling in all the empty spaces
with mere sticks and stones

• for the people of Syria

Robert Filos is an author of poetry and short stories that combine beauty and wit while highlighting social justice issues. Published worldwide his poetry received over 40,000 views in 2017. Born and raised in The Bronx, he now resides in the South Carolina Low-country with his wife and children. He can be reached at Read other articles by Robert.