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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1315853
About the lose of a child
Looking along the riverbed.
Watching the divers shake their heads.
Stones cracking from the sun,
Such cracks cannot be undone.

Tears that ripple the reflection,
Shake the hopes deception.
In a hug their grief is shared,
Why wasn't he spared?

Busy life surrounds the mourning.
Not an insect nor bird adorning,
But people’s cars and cozy routines,
Creating gas-obscuring scenes.

A box delicately placed inside,
The coarse cold dirt with more aside,
Ready to pound and scratch away,
Until it kills the last light of day.

This empty room empties their care.
And they scream "its not fair"
The warm house is cold now,
Still, they don’t know how?
© Copyright 2007 Stealth (sniper_b at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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