Wendell L. Vaughan
Sarajevo - Poem by Wendell L. Vaughan
The Balkan Queen in '84,
Decked out in splendor and galore,
With Olympian fever running high,
White Christmas M ountains towering nigh.
The scene again in '94,
A plundered hell-o'grief dolor!
Olympian gold now turned to rust;
White ski slopes black with guns and dust.
The play's the same,
But script has changed
With pipers new.
It's sports or war,
The choice is clear-
Set pipers free,
More guns and fear.
Comments about Sarajevo by Wendell L. Vaughan
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye