The night was violent as it sometimes was
The dead, fights and drink drivers without a pause
We cleared the station just before dawn
As we were driving back to our area a bit forlorn
The light started to show on the hill's line
With each minute as the sun's rays refine
In its cleansing duty as it sweeps away
The troubled things left in the night's display.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The light started to show on the hill's line...Very fantastic sharing done definitely. Wise sharing.10