in the cliffs (Remove filter)
Can You Hear My Cry
Cry and cry, till I die
Can you hear, I want you by me
As we used to play
In the long golden grass,
My beautiful one. Long gone
Four years, but still with me
Played till state authorities saw
And stole from us our life,
Raped us for themselves
Persecuted us, we ran, not mad
To escape their tether chains cells
Far away, beyond altitude.
For we are ...
Sunday 4th November 2018 6:38 pm
Recent Comments
Mike Bartram on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
17 minutes ago
Naomi on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
51 minutes ago
Naomi on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on Liberation, 1945
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
1 hour ago
Hélène on Beatrix is on Holiday
3 hours ago
Hélène on Another poet in the family
3 hours ago
Hélène on TWO NUNS ON A BUS
3 hours ago
John Coopey on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
4 hours ago