Droned to death
In this last strike, how many did you lose? We lost four....oh wait it’s you? You don't know and they don't show, they showed two but we lost four, my parents and poor two more.
They sit silent behind the doors, shut up and say no more. Talk about peace, but mean just ****. We intend no harm, we mean just peace. But how can we proceed, when they hit us with such speed? All our hopes and dreams are shattered, but to them, does it really matter?
At times, I think it will be over soon, or maybe it's just a dream. May be I'll wake up one day and see my mom, my dad and me, talk and laugh like we are free.
Copyright © HASAN JAVED | Year Posted 2014
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment