The Children
Even seasoned reporters cannot bear the horror. Little children screaming, their tender flesh seared like the steak you threw on the grill last night. Their mothers by their bedsides, aching to cradle them, but daring not to touch.
Hezbollah. Israeli. Hamas. The children.
We stand by and watch. After all, what can we do? There will always be war. The Middle East will always be at each other’s throats.
And it’s only the price at the pump that really gets our attention.
Now go throw that steak on the grill.