The child sits alone in the dark woods as she begins to cry
No one can here her no one can see her for there is no child but an empty soul of what use to be a happy child
What is left of the child is nothing but tears and hate
For the war has killed all she has known and all that she has loved
The woods are nothing but fire of her burning soul
She sits in a ring of fire a fire of what use to be love
All the love has turned to hate and all the hate has turned to tears
For she was a child of 8
A child of 8 with her baby sister not even 1
They awoke to flames and nothing but black air
All they herd was fires and yells
Yells and fire was the last they had seen
For they was in the middle of a war
A war that hade nothing to do with them but for them alone they were in a war
The crying child of 8 wished for only peace for were her house had been was nothing but a ring of fire a ring of fire that her soul was trapped in
All had been lost for a war that meant nothing
A child of 8
A child not even 1
Lost and miserable souls of no freedom or hope
For all was lost in a war....
Now in the night nothing but dark cries are herd
Silence is never rely their
For all that is their is cries and despite
Lost child in the woods come out to play
To play and to cry for lost children or herd
Roaming for their parents but no parents to find
Lost and crying
Crying and lost
With one thing in mind
When is their justice to be herd? ? ? ...
Sasha Lepsch
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-childs-cry/
