The bitterness I feel is sometimes raw
Of the things I've seen sticking in my craw
Why is it that the innocents will suffer
Whilst sometimes the evil one will recover
Children who haven't yet made their mark
Live with broken dreams without love at the start
Or the broken lives whose time slips away
When it could be prevented in a common sense display
In my mind on reflection it still is so real
It's the horror in my memory that I have to deal
And it is not always the blood and the gore
It's when you leave children knowing they need more.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem, well penned, you have presented your feelings with beautiful flow of rhythm, thanks for sharing