Along With Millions
Barbwire fence
Death with millions
No home exist, not even a picture
Moms rings are gone like her
Sold to sinners that banished us
They gloat, the sinners
The sinners
Who are not winners
Death awaits them in years
As mine at ten will be tomorrow
Millions of eyes have no plot
As we are like dots
Who have fought
If one of us live
For how will we live
Everything is gone
As we have to be done.
Will anyone come
So I will not be done
Like millions will you believe
Will you remember
Copyright © Samantha Withee | Year Posted 2016
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