A coal-black headscarf frames her face.
Her hollow eyes show deepest despair.
In the burning ruins of her home,
an old woman cries and curses God,
and shakes her fist against the air.
Another war, a different place,
the same innocent, with a different name.
She pulls her black shawl round her face,
A shroud she wears for her living death.
Is it us who bare the blame.
Author notes
Snow as in white
Dixie
A contest entry
- Hurting (Invite only) by Beating.
600 points, ended August 25, 2007, 21 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
this is very good, and I like it, though I will say it is not that sad. You didn't make me feel what you feel.
BUT, I still love this piece, because it's so thought provoking and full of imagery which I love! -
wow very thought provoking piece...i like the ending
short yet deep...like how it flows very descriptive...potrays a vivid picture in mind...good job and keep penning more
Adding your comment:
