The Killing Fields

Oh the lives that come and go
as the years go by
are taken by the sons of others
on the fields where they die.
Brother against brother
killing one another,
don't we wonder why?
Generation after generation
never seem to learn
that the killing fields are red with blood
as the wheels of life just turn.

The fields of the lands are meant for life
filled with so much joy.
Instead, those fields have fallen quiet
with each and every boy
that became intent on the quest for death
on the killing fields.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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