Hannah York

Rookie (1/3/1996)

The Old Woman. - Poem by Hannah York

There she lies
Half clothed in anger and terror
What is the justice of this world?

The sky smoulders in the bloodlust
Rolling clouds engulf her hatred.

And the voices she hears calling
Floating on a breeze of serenity

Up she looks her outstretched hand
Reaching to the sky
To her loved and lost

Her weathered skin brightens
Hope highlighting the childish glint of her eyes
lost in the deserted face

‘im going home'
She sighs with relief

And that one lost soul is welcomed into the arms of her loved and lost.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The Old Woman. by Hannah York

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 10, 2012

[Report Error]