by Branson Shao
Published on: Jul 23, 2006
Topic:
Type: Poetry

Little innocent tears,
Worries grew into a mountain,
Hopes driven by gurgling streams.
Left home forcibly,
Whipped, sold for the price of a bear,
For ages naïve’s tears never ceased.

Little innocent tears,
Loved little more than a donkey,
What crime committed,
To be judged so injustice?
Into head, bullets were crammed,
Penetrated, separating him so early
From loved ones.

Little innocent tears,
Had to ingest pig’s delicious junky food,
To glimpse the other sun and be tortured,
Had to reside in bush,
To regain his little shabby shack.

Little innocent tears,
When he survived a bullet,
Stay everlasting experience of freedom.
When he survived a bullet,
Chased, tortured, bitten, killed…
Little innocent tears still remain.

Little innocent tears,
Crying for golden glittering sword,
Left by granny after a promise
“Never lose it,” but cruelly taken over the sea,
Little Innocent tears still remain,
Sniffling day and night,
My swords, my lords, my freedom.

Little innocent tears,
My lord no more, my food no more.
Hungry tiny bones still in anguish,
All over the corners,
Who will feed them? Who will feed them?
For ages naïve’s tears never ceased.

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