Cunni Art Book - Portfolio - Page 35
The Forgotten
Children
Beneath the varnish and the gold leaf of every empire, beneath the speeches, the flags, the monuments raised to
victors and kings, there are children. The unnamed souls pressed into the cracks of history like ash beneath a
door.
No signatures.
No birthdays.
No graves.
Only Numbers. History had learned long ago that it is easier to kill a child twice if no one remembers their
name. Tiny silhouettes burning whilst men in polished suits argue over borders with rulers and oil.
Children are always the first citizens of war and the last citizens of peace.
They inherit every failure they did not create.
The old tell stories about heroes and revolution, but the children inherit the rubble. Politicians speak of necessary sacrifice while mothers search through shattered concrete with bleeding hands. Governments count
territory gained; children count who did not come home.
And the world moves on with obscene efficiency.
A new election.
A new market.
A new flag.
A new enemy.
But the children remain suspended in time, abandoned in photographs the colour of winter.
Civilisation is a gallery built over mass graves. That every nation, no matter how proud, had buried innocennce beneath its foundations and called the structure progress.
“The true victims are never the men who choose history, but the children forced to survive it”
Once you truly see the forgotten children, you realise they were never forgotten by accident.
They were forgotten because remembering them would indict the entire world.
