I peered at him with watchful eye.
A grimace distorted his youthfuness;
Though the air was warm,
I felt a chill as he stepped, cautiously,
Into the street.
Eyes keenly set, he raised his rife and
Squinted against the sun,
Reeling his weapon with the motion of
Instant replay...
He surveyed his prey of motorists and
Pedestrians, scurrying unaware.
I instinctively accelerated, now watched
Him in the rear view mirror as he smiled
With much intensity at everyone...
I had escaped!
I shuddered knowing there would be
No headlines today for he was just
A child with his toy, playing...
But what about tomorrow?
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
Certainly makes one think - our children are subjected to so much violence and aggression as portrayed on TV and videos etc. Very good write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem, Dorothy. And yes, there are children that will play with guns and end up being murderers. I would hope only a small minority of them, but it is a curious theme.