The tears that I cry is not for me,
so selfish I am not
With so much hurt and pain in the world,
on my knees I pray it stops.
People sick young and old,
Weak and brittle they lie in the bed
With their spirits broken and faith tested,
Soon they will be pronouced dead
Mothers crying, fathers dying,
Another mother-less child
Bullets flying, on the ground bodies lying
Man this world is so damn wild
Now its funeral homes and burier fields
That house so many of our peers
They lay six feet deep in that never-ending sleep
And you wonder why I cry these tears
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cry these tears...... a big 10++++++