Each time men direct killings, we say Never Again
but those who are not dead must continue the fight
because they know they must try again and again
against the hell of doctors trained to inflict pain
to revel in blood squeezed out by official might
over men whose agony cries Never Again.
But the doctors help torture men with broken legs,
hit them with trays, flaunt power and surgical knife,
and with eyes open they hit again and again.
They have whips, rubber straps, electrical wire
lined up in the hospital basement under Klieg lights
where men learn the feeling of Never Again.
But the doctors watch electric shocks on sick men,
pour stuff up their noses, make sure they stay alive
for torture to continue again and again.
This Never Again of the world and its grand might
watches video of kills on TV each night
of Assad ordered murders, oh Never Again
we know it is happening again and again.
© Lavinia Kumar
Homs, city of torture
Lavinia Kumar lives in New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in several publications, in the US and UK. She writes a blog for her brother’s seniorsmagazine.org, based in Portsmouth, NH.