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May 2015
I stood and watched the beating,
My heart was all I heard,
I stood and watched the beating
I'm next is what I feared,

My brother only three years old,
Was trying not to scream,
I reached my hand to touch his face,
Was this just a dream,

His loving eyes of innocence,
Became empty and so still,
My father shouted angrily,
As I lay down next to him,

I shook his shoulder gently,
I wiped away his tears,
Please my little brother,
Let me take your fears,

Wake up, wake up, it's time to play,
We can go outside,
We can climb our tree of dreams,
Together we can hide,

My father walked away in time,
My mother followed him,
But no one helped this little one,
I cried from deep within,

I tried to lift his little form,
To carry him to bed,
As I had tried many times,
But blood poured from his head,

Wake up, wake up, it's time to play,
We can go outside,
We can climb our tree of dreams,
Together we can hide,

But he would not wake up to play,
I shook him more and more,
I kissed his rosie cheeks of red,
Then came a knock on the door,

It was some police and other men,
They ran and got my dad,
They took my brother in a yellow car,
They called my mother bad,

They chained their hands and shouted loud,
I just sat alone,
I wandered what was happening,
In this house, my home,

A lady came and took my hand,
She led me through the door,
I looked at our tree of dreams,
But it wasn't there no more,

Ten years passed in different homes,
A life that's like no other,
And all this time I was alone,
And thinking of my brother,

Today I found our tree of dreams,
And sitting way up high,
Is my brother, my sweet sweet brother,
I began to cry,

I climbed the tree and held him tight,
He was happy and had no pain,
His eyes where full of life once more,
We where together again.
Tina ford
Written by
Tina ford  Liverpool
(Liverpool)   
553
     emma harwood, Jane Millward and ryn
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