Where is the voice that dares to say
That war is shaped in a cruel display?
Hardened hearts that answer with guns,
Stealing the futures of daughters and sons.
It takes far more than pens and pleas—
Corrupted minds, like a foul disease,
Must turn around and set souls free
With a change of heart the world can see.
For only hands that once threw stones
Can rebuild life from dust and bones,
Creating a world where peace can grow,
Where hope is reborn and begins to glow.
MARYANN BOSAH 