A Crying Orphan.. Watchful Eyes Guarding You Poem by TaMaRa HaNaRiNg ,(((( PaLeSTiNe))))FreedOm Flottila .

A Crying Orphan.. Watchful Eyes Guarding You



(YEARS AGO)

..One day I thought of leaving, It was a moment, I closed my eyes, my self was torn to pieces, a part of me was taken away that moment I saw a crying orphan begging me to stay...

I found my self surrounded by all of you
your tears filled my eyes and in my turn started to cry asking how and why i forgot my place which is placed so high in the sky

you whispered to me..you are the giver and you will never be a miser,

in your eyes I saw my touch healing you, watchful eyes guarding you,

when the sky will be mean Iam the rain in your desert, the shiny sun in a stormy way, I'm the cover in the lonely nights, iam the breeze in a summer day,

we as it may seems Florence nightingale to soldiers in the war
We are the guide for the lost in UN unknown land, we maintain our motto pledge to provide the needy with our care, regardless to religion, ethnicity and race...

(deeply rooted in the land, no one shakes us, able always to stand in the face of a stormy sands)
we are the pain relievers, happiness builders, secrets' keepers

when every body leaves, you find me there ready to give, ready to care, eradicate scary nights with night mare, like the doves carry you back to home,

AFTER THAT HECTIC DAY.....I BECOME MORE CONSISTENT TO STAY

despite DIFFICULTIES.., CROOKED WAY..
I will be your father, mother, I will not bother, how much the cost, how much i pay,

and when my tears became dear to my eyes,
your praying convinced me more and morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
just...... to stayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

The blurred pictures started to be more clear..................

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Heather Wilkins 27 July 2013

sometimes emotions get the best of us. good write

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Antonio Liao 14 May 2013

oh! muster lips, take me to the lying mouth and a matter of moist the flower blow..... so vantage of smoke of my soul, crying to remember to the past and learn to talk in the fire of hands... i like you poem of freedom of choice and choose the chanting womb of the mother's lap... Excellent thought for reflection in time of distress..God bless a 10/10

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