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fourth birthday, and let's hope the last.

by Maria Francesca

four years
we've nourished thirsty soil
worlds away

with the blood
of our bravest

the blood
of our hope
and our future.

four years
we've spent
bleeding the heart
of our youth

'til the very sand
glows red with it.

four years
we've salted the land
with our tears

and populated our nightmares
with doubts
and fears of futility.

we celebrate
the birthday of our misery today
with mouthes full
of dusty cake;

come,
let us
blow out the fuses
and make a desperate wish

that this terrible child
passes on in our sleep

and we can wake one day soon
to celebrate the return

of humanity
of future

of hope.

03/19/2007

Posted on 03/19/2007
Copyright © 2024 Maria Francesca

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Angela Nuzzo on 03/20/07 at 07:13 AM

Very nice, Maria. War is always futile. Nobody ever WINS a war. But I'm sure you'll get some responses to this poem that strongly proclaim the opposite. I love the last 10 lines. Well done.

Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 03/20/07 at 02:08 PM

Very strong. Thank you for this.

Posted by Sarah Graves on 03/21/07 at 01:40 AM

Yeah, a solid work here. In style, if flows very effectively for the reader. In content, these sentiments are conveyed. Great read :)

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