All this pain held up in a willow
falls into the river's graves
with a thousand teardrops
of Maraschino cherries
you could've been like the clover blossom's,
part of the midnight train,
you had an opal and you lost it
where has beauty gone?
Sadness shouldn't be beautiful
in the blackberry rain
the Thunder strikes my broken heart
and it bleeds out pain;
coyote blood that never loved
and died in a shadowed cave
where Bigfoots dance in their mourn
on crushed mulberry plains.
All the torture that's not mine
can't live inside me,
for all the people that've died blind
I offer my sympathy,
but I can't cry as they suffer
or how can I see?
The rainbow has many colors
and we still have all of these;
the time is short,
the weeds are tall,
we need to work
to save them all.
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Comments about this poem (Our Witness by Kelly Zion )
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