A postcard from war

I write in stern belief,
My well being is your relief.
I write hoping in my heart,
Life on you has not been hard.

I can send no photos,
of this land that grows,
watered by blood, the seeds of sorrow.
I can tell not who died and when,
at sunset I count missing men.

With stray bullets the children play here,
In empty Lunch-Boxes, common miseries they share.
Hopping through parks lay with land-mines,
they have seen all but god's promised good times.

I write to you... With hope still alive,
through all difficulties,
This postcard will Survive.
I write to sincerely apologize,
For yet another Christmas alone,
this year again, I wont be home.