This Room

Come in, come in. Take a seat
Are you staying long? Would you like a drink?
Some coffee maybe?
It's not a very large place, I know,
but we make do.
Why are you fidgeting? Might it be that this room
makes you nervous?
This room which has held
a dozen people at a time,
Sheltered and scared
Listening to the staticky, bad quality Radio
To know when it would be safe
to breathe again.
This room which has been
bombed inside and out
Whose windows had been taped shut with
that mud brown ugly tape
All around the sides
As though that would protect the inside from
war.
This room which has done
nothing to make a small girl feel any less
Terrified. There, see that? That's where
The little girl used to sit
Only three and half years old, barely out of the womb
And already getting a taste of hell.
That's where the gas masks used to sit
15 people and 15 extra dismembered heads,
Aliens amidst us.
This room which has become
the embodiment of a nightmare,
A living memory of what it was like
To be afraid of destruction and death.
Don't be afraid, it's all gone now.
You don't have to sit on the edge of the chair like that,
The faint echoes of explosions
Can't hurt you anymore.
Listen! Hear that? That's the whimpering sound of the
tears of a little girl who would do anything
to never have to put on a gas mask
again.