Those Killed...
there is always something to say
to make things live, to give life to words,
it is like a trip to an unknown destination
a kidnap for ransom
we keep on talking to assure ourselves that
we are still alive
some even whistle and then they were shot
they were mistaken for a code
asking for help.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
