Let the white be seen

• Timothy White, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2006

Guns go off.
Fires blaze.
Many die.
Nothings proved.
Yet guns still go off and fires still blaze.
I raise the white, yet nobody listens.
Nobody sees the white.
Buildings crumble, soldiers die.
Nothing can be worth what I’m seeing now.
I plea for them to see the white.
Bullets still fly, people still die.
And now I know my attempts are in vain.
And the war continues.