Silver handles on a casket of steel
Reflecting sunlight...cold and unreal...
Sinking deep into hallowed ground
As the grief-stricken gather 'round.
A mothers tears hidden behind a veil
Youngsters with faces...ghostly pale,
Friends and family of a beloved gone...
A scene too frequent and painfully wrong.
Naught in time could have a greater cost
Than the life of a child to violence lost!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem