Terrorism lingered over fruitful smiles,
Destroying hope considering them imbecile,
Guns running over tearful graves,
Playing a game of Gun Man's Bluff with knaves,
Hanging over death to those innocent palms,
Disturbing the pool of childhood that's calm,
Slitting the necks of those weak lives,
Does childhood mean diving into the ocean of knives?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Come to Canada where terrorism is heavily discouraged and childhood is relatively safe and sound I have had 88 years of non-exposure to this evil and hope to continue same.... well said