Marlee

Sandy dirt rols around my bare feet.
The heat from the sun reflects from the ground, burning my feet, blinding my eyes.
Shards of metal fall from old structures, family’s roofs drape the ground.
The clouds in the sky have turned to dark grey, the sun turns them blood red in the afternoon.
The smell of hot gun powder, and trash floated in the air around me.
No matter how loud I scream, or how much I cry
still, no one explains.