The Children Sleep Poem by A Bopp

The Children Sleep



Where they used to dream,
In their sleep, I hear my children cry.
A creaky head waiting to implode,
Nowhere to hide,
Nothing to rejoice.
For you who are dead,
Left us no goodbye.
No reason, no sense,
No hope, just Sorrow.

A Bopp
Friday, August 28, 2009
poem poems sorrow Goodbye
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