Look AwayMature

A world where children are burning paper
Crumbling
Falling
Words bleeding off the page
Ink stains
               Blood stains
Worn clothes draped over broken skin,
fleeting whispers of peace whispered
through cracked jaws of
grinning skulls
and eyelids drooping over empty sockets.

Burning paper,
A children-hearth
Boiled entrails
Baked and burned,
Charred skin over brittle bone
Melting flesh- seared off and torn.

Death makes them happy;
He gives them hope and
Watches their wispy souls
rain out of their decrepit forms;
Bodies empty,
hearts shriveled up-
It’s pathetic
that a million sorrow’d gazes gaze away but not a single hand reaches-out their way.

 

And still we scream for a better place
When all we do is stare unseeing into space.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed