The children look at the fire works in the sky casually br big hungry tummies playing with blood stained mud br half widows pull them beyond crumbling walls br where bread and water is traded for weapons br br br They play among burnt tires and bullet ridden bodies br running after the brightly colored cluster bombs br they sleep under the broken roof and air raids br haunted by the demons of approaching death br br organized violence, political intercourse br my lai, pilot less drones, midnight knock syndrome, br little boy fat man, just war, gas chambers br wheelbarrows for ambulances, collateral damage br br br maybe we did not start it but how can we stand it? br time does not heal, happiness and peace is not real br if children are the future, they are suffering and dying br trivializing the gift of life and the cruelty of death br if it is the adult's game, how come the children lose?br br Reshma Rameshbr br