Prisoners Of Nature Poem by Amy J Richardson
Prisoners Of Nature
The thin limbs of grass reach for me.
Trapped people waving for freedom.
Silently wailing, longing for release
Arms grasp my feet to drag me to my death
Their faces twist with anger
As the wind lashes at them.
I walk on by.
I hear their whistling, moaning.
Thousands of arms whip the air,
It’s a forest of agony.
They pull at each other,
And cry to be free.
- age 11 -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 1:52:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
