Those eyes filled with anger, sorrow, fear and confusion
Can you see the heavy weight
Inside those eyes there is no illusion
Can you see the horrors of what they are afraid
Seeing those eyes watching at me, staring at me, getting to me..
Those eyes have seen to many brutalities
No child should ever see
Scarred with those memories
From which they can't break free
Seeing those eyes looking at me, inside of me, breaking me..
In those eyes a whole story is told
Do you see it in those eyes
Death of the young and the old
War made them see to many goodbye's
Seeing those eyes that seen enough, cried to often, feared to much..
It where those eyes, those sad eyes
The saddest eyes I ever saw
That made me start to realize
The price that children pay for war
Those eyes..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It reminds me of the terrible fact that children that spend their whole upbringings surrounded by bigottry, death, violence and war hardly care about it as they grow up; they are a sort of numb mixture of passionate hatred and casual reactions to it. Yet when the alternative is being the sorrowful state of a child which you portray; I'm not sure which is the cluster I would rather belong to. I am grateful I'm even able to sit back and concern over it actually. Thanks for the thoughts.