TITLE: A Little War Victim
By Amanda D'costa
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
I'm helpless, as I stand here waiting
Mama, won't you come to me!
Fire, ashes, burns and death,
Where is my family?
I am but eighteen months old now
And wonder why I'm here alone
There's only sand and broken homes
And nothing else but bones and bones.
Won't someone hear me; here I am.
I'm hungry mama, where are you?
Come hold me tight, I feel so scared
Oh, mama, I need you!
I sit and cry the whole day long
I'm tired and weary, and forlorn,
The sun is up, the day is bright,
It's hot and sandy, a scary sight.
I'm crying out loud, yet no one cares
Nobody loves me, nobody dares,
I wonder why I was ever born;
To feel humanity's wrath and scorn?
No water here to quench my thirst,
No hugs to calm my trembling fears
No one to claim me as their own
To wipe away my tears.
There are no friends to play with me
To pull my hair, to tickle me,
To change my clothes when I am wet,
To cuddle me and call me pet...
I lie here now in hope that you
Might come and carry me away
From what I see and lest should be
One of those as history.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.