A Suicide Bombing

An unimaginably loud explosion,
Is followed by broken glass,
And the screams of women and children,
Who are caught up in the blast.

They are caught up in a conflict,
It is catching up with all their lives,
It hasn’t asked for what it’s taken,
And it won’t apologise.

The people open their eyes,
Or at least all those who can,
They don’t want to see the damage,
Dealt by the bombers hand.

They survey all the bleeding,
They hear the cries of pain,
They struggle to comprehend this,
And they start to feel the strain.

A half a dozen are dead,
Fathers, mothers and sons,
And no one can answer the question:
In all this loss, just who has won?

What would drive a person
To board a bus with this in his head?
The survivors don’t know the reason,
Anyone who does is probably dead.