Weeds?
Scattered upon a grassy hill
are yellow suns
bursting from green.
A hand pulls the suns
and tosses them aside
unaware of what potential
they hide.
At this sight I sigh
and internally cry.
Why! Oh why?!
Do you make my relatives die.
I try
to see the destroyers
face
and find to much
disgrace
my reflection in its
place.
No comments:
Post a Comment