Words have always been my art: They dance for me and sing for me; They laugh for me and cry for me; They are my paint and brushes; They are my clay.
27 February 2012
Requiem for Innocence
Won't someone save the children?
I fear nobody will.
They're hiding in the shadows
As Darkness comes to kill.
They've barely started living,
But evil doesn't care.
This killer has no mercy;
Not one of them he'll spare.
The boy who dreamed of freedom:
He is the first to die.
He wanted peace and justice;
He never ceased to try.
He lived life with a passion;
He loved with all his heart.
You see, he felt too strongly
From the very start.
I hear the cries of younglings
As they're sent into the grave
By hands that should protect them.
He is once again a slave.
-Esther Spurrill-Jones
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This poem is beautiful but sad :)
ReplyDeleteBy the way I've given you an award over at my blog http://www.lifeisgood-forever21.blogspot.com/2012/02/awards.html
Oh so sad! But very lovely.
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