The weeping child whose tries will not stop.
A million, and counting pinky eyes
O Christ living on this oppressive lot,
landmines, bubbly traps, gifts by
warmongering hands.
The weeping child, tries drops mark each
spots prints engraved too for a miles. The
silence once who can bear, much less to
share. The apocalyptic is here and the
child is at the open fair.
The weeping child, defining love in on adult
controlling world telling us it is a cause
worth the act. Damn! oh damn am a child
we are everywhere. Moreover, our tries
never stop, will the dawn of time change that?
Weeping child you and the ocean is a alike,
but for you my child ,weeping will cease
I hope it will.
copyright 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment