The Story Poem by Hnt var
The Story
Gazing in the burning field, telling the story he saw.
Gunshots flying from roof to roof; the rain is sad.
Under the beds they go; the heat is among them.
In the open field there is love; so tiny, yet so strong.
The forbidden song, played; a smile upon them.
The death of a friend; the loss of a soul.
Run little boy; the story is not lost.
Monday, March 19, 2012
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I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 3:12:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice story....innocent boy caught in a crossfire...perhaps in a war...Thanks for sharing this poem...