FLying Children

Flying children,
In the sky,
With white wings,
Pass me by

I watch them go
and I know

They will not return

Flying children
do not hear,
the guns and bombs
that draw near

The crying men,
 and the close end

Will come to only us

Flying Children have escaped
the war,
the death,

this awful  fate.

But we’re still here,
as death draws near

And have no wings to fly

It’s up to us,
to change the garden,
that will not sprout,
if the ground should harden

For the wingless children,
who cannot fly,
and will not pass over
in the sky.

Reviews

[Crystal Marie Dreier]

This is really good!

[TheRavenQueer]

Definitely can't find fault with this... Brilliantly written with beautiful imagery. Well done! :)

[Kestrova]

This poem reminds me of a beautiful Russian song I once heard, and shares the solemn beauty of it. The second to last verse is my favorite. Very well-written and a superb read, good job! :)

[nothingnothingforgetfor..]

Absolutely loved it, i cant think of any criticism, each word grows wings when read and they just take off, when reading it i feel like im flying overhead, watching this unfold, the terror, the crying and the guns and bombs. Perfect imagery. Wonderful!