When I sleep the memories return
As I again feel their eyes burn
They stand and at me stare
And point to me as I am laid bare
I know their faces I have seen them before
Being torn and questioning if I could have done more
They accuse me of not saving them
A point of view now I can't defend
In a circular story it starts again
Playing it out a story without end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem