Mladic

 Srebenica’s children

Her body hanging from a Tuzla tree

Her orphaned children waken from their slumber

Their father murdered by madman Mladic 

Who claims a second victim in her sorrow. 

Her name Ferida, her husband Suleman

Butchered with eight thousand Muslims 

In a UN safe Haven abandoned to the Serbs

Who butchered men and women for a holy cause. 

Fatima and Damir the lonely orphans 

Of ninety six when Europe turned its back 

On slaughter in its own back yard

Too close for comfort too far from war. 

We looked each night at Sarajevo

Disbelieving this could happen in our time

Under our watch while over TV dinners 

Deadly snipers count their toll. 

We could not exile news to another era

Or claim it happened unbeknownst to us

For murder happened when they went to shops

And did the common tasks of life. 

Her lifeless body hanging sadly

By her belt she fastened slowly 

She kissed her children and left the camp

She saw no future, no history either. 

Edmund Burke said with wisdom 

Two hundred years ago or so

All it takes for bad to prosper

Is for the just to do damn all.