Daniel Cheeseman Poet I do not know?

It Hurts To Think

And the pillow soaks the tears
Piercing screams, no one hears
These are the children of the night
Neglected, rejected, full of fright

Cigarette burns on on arms and hand
Starved, how can they understand
Lying in filth, bereft of love
Who could tell them of a God above

And if they live the scars remain
A lack of guidance, endless pain
Hold those memories deep within
The peace they seek , to never win

The winds of change it never blows
Day after day the evidence shows
Vixen, Tigress, Wolf, all show care
But the beast called man, well I despair

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Debbie Guzzi February 12, 2010 at 5:59 AM It's rhyme or Quatrain form.....so much sorrow..yet sorrow brings it's own lessons some rise from the pain to help others, some never rise. That's the choice. Light & Love

Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen February 10, 2010 at 3:57 AM Daniel, Your work is inspiring. God bless you. And thank you for sharing. Lovingly, Dane Ann

June Ellen Smith February 9, 2010 at 5:17 PM how sad. I once burned my oldest daughter's arm by mistake. She ran into my cigarette. Good rhyming though on your poem. Good reading. June Ellen Smith

Andrea Dietrich February 9, 2010 at 2:44 PM Daniel, this is a poem of truth , a sad truth. WE are seeing the consequences of neglecting our kids each day we walk outside and come across the violence and other negative aspects of society. Who can tell them of God? So true. One needs to feel love in order to understand the concept of it. LUv, Andrea

Carol Sunshine Brown February 8, 2010 at 3:18 PM I am so happy your poetry was amongst the poetry I am reading today Daniel. Tis always a pleasure to read your poetry. May you have a wonderful week filled with inspiration. Love, Carol

Doris Culverhouse February 8, 2010 at 1:25 PM sounds like a horro show, nicely written