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Author Name: Freepenfold18 6 Comments
Date Added: January 11, 2011 11:01:54 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Such tiny hands in ragged clothes
With tear stained faces full of woe
Is this the legacy bequeathed
A gift of flowers becomes a wreath
Are they lucky to survive
To hunt for parents if alive
Or those to fall without a sound
To pass unoticed on the ground
Was there a cause, though most don't know
The arguments fly to and fro
Brought up in violence who can blame
If they grow up to be the same.
Author's Notes:
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'Aftermath' Copyright © Graham Jones
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Comment By: PremiumHOPE on January 19, 2011 01:23:21 PM Report
 This poems touches tmy heart, beautifully written.  As I reread it for the second time I thought yes you are absolutely right, this is the way of the world.  Then I thought to myself it doesn't have to be this way.  It made me ponder all the things that are broken in the world in which could I realistically change.  Most  likely none, but I can help one person at a time.


Comment By: FreeLeonard Wilson on January 13, 2011 05:06:37 PM Report
Beautiful write, Graham...Too many people in other people's cross hairs these days..I hear sales of the Glock that maniac used went up 60% in Arizona since Saturday..What kind of craziness is that?...len
Comment By: FreeShe Whispers on January 12, 2011 07:55:35 AM Report

Oh I do feel the sorrow in this poem much sadness we watch the tragedy daily...... 

 The truth of the matter really hurts....

 Always ~ Scarlett

Comment By: Freeeddie bryant salinas on January 11, 2011 09:11:32 PM Report
nice, beautifuly put, such sad truth
Comment By: FreeMaples on January 11, 2011 03:37:29 PM Report

Brilliant! Such a sad true story, we see on the news everyday.



Comment By: Freesam tudor on January 11, 2011 11:40:17 AM Report
great poem,
loved the power of the imagery.

sam :)


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