They Are Seekinng Your Helping Hands
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my
brothers, sisters , friends all I have here ?
Ere the sorrow comes with years ?
They are leaning their young heads against
their mothers, —
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows
;
The young birds are chirping in the nest ;
The young fawns are playing with the shadows
;
The young flowers are blowing toward the
west—
But the young, young children, O my dears,
They are weeping bitterly !
They are weeping in the playtime of the
others,
In the country of the free.
Do you question the young children in the
sorrow,
Why their tears are falling so ? ? ?
Do you know their crying hungry heart
Is seeking your helping hands ?
Children are a gift from God ... A story does
not exist unless it's told...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
