The previous blog triggered my memory of a poem I wrote about my mother who was deported from her home in Turkey in 1915.  Maybe that's why I feel so strongly about the amount of weaponry in the hands of those who set in motion the suffering that war and violence cause.
 
     AT THEIR MERCY

My mother had hopes and dreams
But men in power did not know
Or care. Their hearts were set
On entering the Great War.

Would these mighty men
Think about the innocent
Who'd suffer or lose their lives
Or the greatness of their warrior name?

Mom’s future and even her life
Depended upon their choices
Why is it powerful men
See only the Romance in War?