No food,
No hope
The old man
Is past caring.
But the boy laughs
At his peeling skin.
He has no hope either
But being young
He thinks nothing is hopeless
When you are alive,
Even a swollen belly.
I could cry at reading this, my hope is that if people read poems like this it will set a reminder that more help is needed.You have reminded one at least and thats for sure and as a result my birthday money will be spent on THE GOOD GIFT GUIDE CHARITY which will go towards those in need in India.Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Willow...You write so well about meaningful topics...what a wonderful poet you are! ! Hugs, Dee