After everyday of school.
Tradgie's leave me in tears.
The long hour's of sorrow continue tommorrow
when nobody thier.
I never learn to cry life give's us question.
As I wonder why?
A child so innocent and young.
Had to die in his mother arms.
I walk a mile and I can still hear the siren from a far.
What are these streets made of war.
So many outline bodie's of chalk.
That thier a grave where ever you walk.
I live with this everday but Im never alone.
It affect us all even if your strong.
My way home is to a blind man beat.
Underneath my feet it is shown.
Im always following the ambulance home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a tragic thing to happen........what a loss...so cruel and insane.........