Children Are Still Crying Poem by keith brown

The children are still crying for all the things they se
As they watch their fathers dying
For some idealistic dream

Tiny hand against the window
on Tiptoes standing tall
Small faces turned too heaven
As angels teardrops fall

The children are still crying afraid of what they hear
Voices raised in anger
Hands clenched in fists of fear

Tiny face against the window
Would stem the the rising storm
Small body racked with hunger seeks only
Comfort and the warmth

The children are still crying for all the things we've done
As they watch the
Adults try and solve their problems with a gun

Tiny hands against the window leave imprints on the pain
These children we should cherish
They won't pass this way again

For

children grow to adults who unleash the gods of war
Ignore the pain and hunger the
Needy and the poor
Acting without conscience, plant not one single seed
Rape the earth for plunderi
In ignorance and greed

Then with golden years approaching, decline to shoulder blame
It's a different generation, nothing's quite the same
So we stand in awe and wonder
At the way we helped them grow

It seems that we've forgotten
How it feels to stand
Tiny hand against the windows