Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
We broke a child yesterday, and here we are left to pay. We broke a child yesterday, ignorant to warnings, now our dismay.                                                                                                                          Mommy! Mommy! He is afraid,                                                                                                        from the gum, and spit, and word grenade.                                                                                                                      Friend, Friend! Please raise a hand,                                                                                                                     but not to break blood on the sand.                                                                                                                       Teacher, Teacher! Do you not hear,                                                                                                                                       or see him cower in fear?                                                                                                                           God! God! Where are you now?                                                                                                               He unloads in a gun to help him avow! Now what seems like any other day, is broke by thunder, while they play. We broke a child yesterday, and here we are left to pay. We still break children here today, for race, and size, and mind, and ‘cause they’re gay. We break children every day, yet we blame them when they fray. So say sorry for all who lay, under a hospital tray, or wet clay.
0
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 1:10 AM UTC
We Broke a Child Yesterday
We broke a child yesterday, and here we are left to pay. We broke a child yesterday, ignorant to warnings, now our dismay.                                                                                                                          Mommy! Mommy! He is afraid,                                                                                                        from the gum, and spit, and word grenade.                                                                                                                      Friend, Friend! Please raise a hand,                                                                                                                     but not to break blood on the sand.                                                                                                                       Teacher, Teacher! Do you not hear,                                                                                                                                       or see him cower in fear?                                                                                                                           God! God! Where are you now?                                                                                                               He unloads in a gun to help him avow! Now what seems like any other day, is broke by thunder, while they play. We broke a child yesterday, and here we are left to pay. We still break children here today, for race, and size, and mind, and ‘cause they’re gay. We break children every day, yet we blame them when they fray. So say sorry for all who lay, under a hospital tray, or wet clay.
daeartist
Written by
American
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 1:10 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem