Balkan pride
A child sat in an open field
where grass grew wild and free,
where Nature showed her wealth in green,
and where the rainbow's light had been.
The toddler cried unceasingly,
oily tears smeared his face;
looking o'er the empty plain,
he searched for comfort in the rain.
His mother had been shot
by a soldier honoured brave,
for when he had a life in hand,
he chose to kill and take the land.
His father was defending
another piece of land
by killing someone else's mom,
and if he could, her baby son.
So the child was left to cry
till death would sing a lullaby;
his mother killed, his father killing,
he at peace at last God willing.
where grass grew wild and free,
where Nature showed her wealth in green,
and where the rainbow's light had been.
The toddler cried unceasingly,
oily tears smeared his face;
looking o'er the empty plain,
he searched for comfort in the rain.
His mother had been shot
by a soldier honoured brave,
for when he had a life in hand,
he chose to kill and take the land.
His father was defending
another piece of land
by killing someone else's mom,
and if he could, her baby son.
So the child was left to cry
till death would sing a lullaby;
his mother killed, his father killing,
he at peace at last God willing.
This Poems Story
I saw the news item on television some years back and from what I saw, I responded with a poem.
Public Collections Containing This Poem
Other Poems By This Author
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Abandoning
PoetAlastaire Arendse
-
Against the gun
PoetAlastaire Arendse
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