Guest Poems

War Child

Amidst the rubble and the odor of death
the dying scream and the earth groans.
Somewhere in a sleep so very deep,
a War Child lays fetal sheltered by dreams.
Graceful motions surrounded by colors so sweet.
The soft smell of the mother's embrace.
The warmth of a starry summer night.
Visiting with the clouds on high,
Never, ever dreaming of a time to die.
The War Child never awakes to tell a story of Peace.
War despises dreams

Name: jeffrey stanton
Email: cioran123@yahoo.com

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