The Tipping Point

The Tipping Point

It’s often said of strife and wars,

There are two truths: mine and yours.

That history is written by those who win,

And real truth lies somewhere within.

.

But then, one day, the stories fly,

Of acts too barbarous to deny,

Against a people whose only crime,

Was existing in wrong place and time.

.

And while our eyes take in the proof,

They mist as we resist the truth.

That children, playing as children should,

Were cut down, dust running red with blood.

.

 With leaden hearts we feel the fear,

Of victims of such tender years.

And as we stare at those innocent faces,

We hope they rest now in better places.

.

Those children speak to you and me,

From within the pictures we’d rather not see,

Begging us not to turn the page,

But to bring full force of our grief and rage.

.

The tipping point is upon us now.

To the innocent dead we make a vow:

Your history will be written by voices anew,

For we are human,

And we have children too.

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This poem was written in support of the #tippingpoint campaign led by Netmums and Britmums highlighting the horror of events in Syria, particularly the atrocities visited upon innocent civilians, many of them children.

Follow the hashtag on Twitter, visit the Netmums and Britmums pages, and take time to contribute to these online petitions at Save the Children and Avaaz.org. Use your voice and stop the killing.

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