To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Burning Babes A season that sways in softly as gentle tips upon piano keys bringing countless blazes; day dreams to peaceful ocean breezes fancying ideal "Summer" supreme, overlooking children born to poverties scheme. Shabby weather-beaten bricks draw heat from the sun eagerness on small faces yearning for someone to place a small coin or two they may need If for only one tiny cup of a flavored ice-cream An indulgence they lack while they move through each hot spell trapped in filthy dumps like cells never to see any ocean waves swell. We marvel at the sand and sea sated by salty idyllic air unscathed by children in vast cities who seem to know every year that none will truly care. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Medard Louis Lefevre Jr. On Date: 2015-08-21 01:07:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Gorgeous. The true poverty of our soul is revealed by how we treat and look after our children. Lovely and stark imagery to accurately describe a horrid scene. Perfect ending. After so many millenniums and so many different civilizations it appears that we will never change. A very good and focused piece.
Thanks, as always,
Medard