Little Girl Of Kosovo

Deep into her eyes I stared,
and wondered how this child fared.
Her little face was sad
a little ill and mad.
Her clothes were turn and soiled,
a childhood in hellish turmoil.
Her blond dirty hair whipped into the wind
as she looked into a land she’s never been,
just keeping close to her mother,
still remembering her father.
I look once more deep into her blue eyes,
I could almost feel her cry.
Deep in the dark of the pupil lens
I see the fire burning dense.
The eerie shadows of hanging death
begin to shorten my every breath.
Further, deep into her mind
and there I find,
a home left in ashes and dust,
a nightmare so unjust.
Her doll lay in cinders on the ground
and her dreams left unfound.
She turns away from me,
and points so I can see,
her home so far away
her life just a shadow in the day.
Her voice was timid and sorrow filled
in every word a chill,
so much horror
in what might come tomorrow.
She looked at me and smiled,
as I saw an innocent child
taking back to the road ahead,
barefoot she strolled as her mother lead
where she was going
there was no knowing
but on a day unknown,
God willing, she would be home.

written on Thursday – September 16,1999

by Gil Garcia

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Comments (1)

Wonderful poem. Brings back memories.