What hath we done?
What time do we live in?
Feeding off horrors and faking laughters
We stead on the land, the land of the dead
The land enriched with their moisture, we harvest our food
We nurture our little ones with apples,
The apple tree grown from the little boy shot in the war
The final will of inheritance brings smile to our hearts
Still, we cry at the old man's funeral
What hath we done to live in this world?
What time do we live in?
This world, a burial ground.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 3:28 AM UTC
What hath we done?
What time do we live in?
Feeding off horrors and faking laughters
We stead on the land, the land of the dead
The land enriched with their moisture, we harvest our food
We nurture our little ones with apples,
The apple tree grown from the little boy shot in the war
The final will of inheritance brings smile to our hearts
Still, we cry at the old man's funeral
What hath we done to live in this world?
What time do we live in?
This world, a burial ground.
Request permission to use this poem