Hire
Writers
Editors
Home Read What's New Join
Faith
Writers
Forum
My Account Login
Shop
Save
Support
Book
Store
Learn
About
Jesus
  

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
THE CRITIQUE CIRCLE

BACK TO
CRITIQUE CIRCLE

INSTRUCTIONS
COMPLETE
INSTRUCTIONS HERE

CRITIQUE GUIDELINES

CRITIQUE TIPS

HELP TOUR

It's easy to critique the works of others and get your work critiqued. Just follow the steps below:

1) Post your first piece.

2) You must then critique the work of another member to post another piece yourself.

3) For each critique you give, you earn 1 credit that can be used to post another one of your writings.

4) You can build up credits to be used at another time by giving critiques to others.
Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.





TRUST JESUS TODAY

TRY THE TEST





TITLE: A Little War Victim
By Amanda D'costa
07/15/06
 SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
 SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND

This was something I wrote years back when the Afghan War was on. I saw the picture of a little girl,a war victim, in a magazine and she tugged at my heart strings.
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.
YOUR CREDITS

LOGIN HERE