The Wall

Now his name is on the Wall,
Just because he took the fall.
Stillness permeates the air,
As someone places a memento there.
Through tears I try to focus on the Wall,
While his loving face, I attempt to recall.
Mothers raise their little boys,
Only to be shot down, like soldier toys.
This is not a game, you see,
Like boys used to play on bended knee.
These are hearts that break and bleed,
Because countries have so much greed.
The boys who were left behind,
Do not have any piece of mind.
Why countries fight, I don't understand,
The boy's lives are no more than a grain of sand.
I wonder if we have learned anything,
From all these boy's unspoken pain!

by Joy Rainey King

Other poems of JOY RAINEY KING (2)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.