Little Things

running around and giggling 
they swing across the handlebars
with sweet little dreams,
a smile on their faces
and chuckles on ours

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Mummed 

sermons of fire
expounded by guns 
sleeping in chaos 
I woke up 
but was told to 
Zip it. 

the hand of god 
would have wavered 
just before that explosion 
but I still wore that jacket
and was asked to
Zip it. 

a shroud of colour 
the victims adorned 
their pride became their wreath 
my bloodied crown felt heavy
but I marched on 
when I was asked to
Zip it. 

cries of pain
calls for help 
were mere white noise 
for the voice of one
wouldn’t have made a difference 
after I had made sure to
Zip it. 
 
 
Today’s Daily Mail Prompt – Zip