IM (03-24-1990 / phoenix, AZ)


The sky cried blood…
The rivers flowed red…
The children are no longer dead.
The city concealed with cries for help
Priests, bishops, and popes fled.
Churches empty, mothers dead
Daughters neglected, sons not fed.
We asked for God’s help,
They gave us posies instead of good health,
Our bodies not cold, but burned to ash,
No longer dead in heaven we laugh.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 3

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Comments (3)

This is a well written poem.*Sierra*
I really enjoyed this one. I think it's your best...keep writing....never stop. -brandi
wow... i really like this poem. Very nicely written keep up the good work always and forever <3Jade<3