When Poem by Smoky Hoss
When
When the sounds of war
are heard no more
and the pangs of hunger
are rent asunder,
when the homeless throngs
find they belong
and the weak and the lost
are no longer trashed and tossed,
when the entire human view
is made all new
and what we want to see
extends beyond selfish me,
then will the human race
find and finally recognize true grace
not only in every place
but also in each human face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 7:13:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
We are Not even waiting for magic, just life. waiting for this When.......every detail. Great words Smoky.