Just Outside the Front Door
It's true life must go on and it
does though never as before.
Once long ago two small boys played
together just outside the front door.
There is something eternally beautiful
about small hands burried in the sand.
And too ....there is a plague that spreads
across this once great land.
A drunk driver and a fifty-seven chevy
changed everything about that magic.
Your golden hair and the bluest eyes
I've ever seen...why in the end ..tragic.
I think all the judges should be chosen
from the ranks of victims of violence.
And the cries of all the lost children
would turn easily to heavenly silence.
That's a moving poem....why did you post it on the forum instead of making it into a hub?
Obviously, a new hubber, trying to find their way around!
Welcome here ahorseback. That's a beautifil poem so I hope you'll make it into a hub (http://hubpages.com/faq/#hubtool). Take care
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