Over In That Country

We have our morning coffee.
Making plans to start our day.
We go and check our mirror,
For any hair that has gone astray.
We think we are looking older.
So a cream goes on our list.
A new nail polish would be nice.
Is there anything I have missed?

But across the deep blue ocean,
In a land very far away.
No lists are made for shopping.
No coffee will start their day.
A reflection in a mirror,
That's hanging cracked and askew.
Sightless eyes are starring.
Nevermore this world will view.

We grab our keys and children,
To hurry out our door.
Off to school and work,
Just like the day before.
But in that other country,
A mother does the same.
She grabs her child and rushes.
Her actions are in vain.

She cannot protect or save him,
Against what is to come.
Her prayers have gone unanswered,
and there is no place left to run.
A radio reporter saying,
How many will die this day.
Over in that country,
so very far away.

We switch to easy listening.
For we do not want to hear.
Those people are always fighting.
They have lived that way for years.
These callous words muttered.
I have heard them said.
Should I feel sorrow for that speaker,
More than the dead???

The disease of the speaker,
Is not unique to one.
It is worse than any cancer,
And cannot be undone.