Bleeds red
the hole in my heart;
blue roses wreathed
pain stabs my heart.
I weep at the broken twig
bleating calf
fallen leaf
and the fur-less chick
I sob at the motherless babes
the blind kid miserable
the sinking huts
and struggling poverty
my heart bleeds
when heartless hearts
sans kindness bakes
the poor emotions
of conscientious souls.
Is there a god?
does he any eyes
when the poor weep
and the rich sleep
Is he awake?
and wipe the tears
and wake up the others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wake up the others, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and comment.