i think of all those childeren
who died without a chance
of living on
in this world
away from all those men
the ones who beats them
the ones who hurt them
the ones who scares them
half to death
with hearing there pleas
they never stop
untill that child
can not talk
and i think to myself
why them
there just so innocent
with out pain
with out hurt
they move on
to a place
where they'll never be hurt again
by: cris son.
age: 15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem