The little child’s voice calls out
he stands in a pool of blood ,sand and pain the earth soaks what’s left of his kin
Blood and pain flowing together
A fragile heart breaks even before its formed
A little child’s voice calls out
This time not in joy of BABA’S return
Or the call of KAKA’s meal time
She’s lost to the beauty the world holds
Her childhood reaped from her before she even knows the joy of being a child.
A little child’s voice calls out
She’s lost in the movie that plays before her eyes
The violence before her
As limb separates from joints
And heads lay west and body bartered in the east..
Her grasp of humanity disappears right before her eyes.
A little child’s voice calls out
A child ages in a day
Responsibility a heavy burden on his heart
he becomes all there is to himself and his siblings.
He becomes a parent while still a child
But his sanity is in danger
He hangs on by a thread
Praying not to snap because his siblings depend on him.
I can hear their voices
It calls out to meI can hear their painI see their eyes
The lens through which I see the thread that’s about to snap..
All they want is to be a child again
Shielded from the chaos of this wicked world.
#poetryinmotion#writershub.
DETAILS
AUTHOR: karis-oxano
VISIBLE: public
FINISHED: March 19th, 2020 10:54pm
LIMIT:
COMMENT FROM AUTHOR ABOUT THE POEM: After experiencing the plight children face during war . I had to speak up.
THE BRIDGE 