The sun calls and the grass beckons and
the children run into the fields to play as they do and as they must and
the children get blown to bits by land mines planted by adults.
And great gifts fall from the sky as if
from Santa's sleigh and they whistle as they plummet toward the earth
where they kill children as they do and as they must because adults
always know what's for the best.
'Thank you Daddy' say the charred
remains, the scattered limbs, the ashes and the blood stains. And a
monument is built so no one will forget but life goes on and the children
ask 'is it Christmas yet?'
The children can't wait to see what
they're going to get. A toy gun, a toy tank, a model army jet with
which to play at killing as they do and as they must,
just like the
adults in whom they place their trust.
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