What happens to all the innocent children?
Are they swept away by the winds of reality, of fate?
Do they shrivel up and die inside?
Never again can they run free,
Never can they live peacefully.
Colors fade, black to grey.
Where they are they do not know,
Here mother hates father,
And people call them bad names.
Here there are voices,
Speaking succulent lies.
Children, they cry,
Soon they will struggle,
In husks of sweet souls,
The children shall suffer.
Submitted: October 19, 2009
© Copyright 2022 Chrysta. All rights reserved.
Comments
another really good poem I love it...keep writing these are amazing :)
Thu, October 22nd, 2009 8:20pmA poem that makes you really think, I like it
I wont say keep writing but cause you said you will twice now :)
So um take care. :)
JD
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rbouncha
what an interesting poem. kind of makes me think what lies beyond humans thoughts and feelings. Whether it is good or bad we all share this type of feelings. anyways continue writing
Mon, October 19th, 2009 2:57pmAuthor
Reply
Thank you, I'm glad you got my message and I'll keep writing too. :)
Wed, October 21st, 2009 6:39am