Close to home.

Debilitating

to live in a world at war

24/7

through most hours

eyes are closed

not asleep

but drowsy

Ignorant

Blissful ignorance

Closer to home

alarms are heard more clearly

Echoes of cries can't be heard across the sea

yet in our hands, we can see

Yet, we choose not to

until our own selves are reflected in the tragedy

until our dreams are encroached upon by misery

the possibility of

Fear, to take hold of our fragility

Unjust.

So we are told,

but only when close to home.

a poem from 2021. R