Poetic-Verses
See the faces of the children.
See the faces of the children
carried high above their heads,
little bodies draped in cotton
no longer breathing all are dead.
Another country torn and tattered
a tyrant sleeping sound in bed,
tanks roam free around the cities
blood flows crimson from the dead.
Houses burn while sound of gunfire
just empty shells the people fled,
all looked on by safe outsiders
cameras can't show all the dead.
Nations sit around the table
discussions end with no appease,
while the children continue dying
they put in place an assets freeze.
Syria joins the league of countries
governed by Iron fist of hand,
a people proud that dream of freedom
now digging graves across the land.
We hear their pleas feel their sorrow
each baby born should then live,
give me a Gun I'll fight beside you
to save one child my life I'd give.
See the faces of the children
carried high above their heads,
little bodies draped in cotton
no longer breathing all are dead.
carried high above their heads,
little bodies draped in cotton
no longer breathing all are dead.
Another country torn and tattered
a tyrant sleeping sound in bed,
tanks roam free around the cities
blood flows crimson from the dead.
Houses burn while sound of gunfire
just empty shells the people fled,
all looked on by safe outsiders
cameras can't show all the dead.
Nations sit around the table
discussions end with no appease,
while the children continue dying
they put in place an assets freeze.
Syria joins the league of countries
governed by Iron fist of hand,
a people proud that dream of freedom
now digging graves across the land.
We hear their pleas feel their sorrow
each baby born should then live,
give me a Gun I'll fight beside you
to save one child my life I'd give.
See the faces of the children
carried high above their heads,
little bodies draped in cotton
no longer breathing all are dead.
Comment On This Poem ---
See the faces of the children.
See the faces of the children.
