by Ronja
Published on: Jun 7, 2006
Topic:
Type: Poetry

A look into his stone cold eyes
- Read the hatred off his face
You can hear the faint, innocent cries
And the hardness in his elegant pace
And yet you know he cannot mean
All the things you have heard and seen

Behind the rebel wall
You can hear him softly call
Call for help, call for love
Scared of what is above

Constant look, no sway be seen
Angry flare- nasty, mean
You stare back bold and strong,
Now he doesn’t know
Where his feelings belong

The hate slowly unfolds ,
Melts into the air
He ruffles, nervously, his hair

He hears the faint, innocent cries
Feels the blood as each one dies
His head falls down, his armour falls

Yet he ignores the pained calls
Goes on his tired way
But has never forgotten
this day.

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