This morning my eyes were closed again.
I felt the dandelion seed on my face, resting on my tears for all their unfulfilled wishes
Heavy hearts and dandelions, all blown in the clean air
There is no more blame, suffering, and pain for those dandelion babies
Only heavy hearts for us
With the demented minds
With our eyes staring through the dandelions cut too soon
And those who are calling out their names, in so many languages!
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Author:
Parisab (
Offline) - Published: November 16th, 2023 14:14
- Comment from author about the poem: For children lost to wars and their families
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments10
Powerful poem. Vivid imagery and metaphor.
Thank you for investing in my scribbles Kevin…
I feel this. Whether by happenstance, circumstance or perhaps injustice that forced limits unnoticed by those that don’t or didn’t pay a price and and may never know the pain of seeing the specter of a the rose you were forbidden to be.
I have a special pulse of my heart for You, dear Poet
I’m grateful Bobby …
I would be honoured to stand next to your shadow & weep alongside you ..
With much gratitude for your gentle heart, sir…
Thanks for reading and I appreciate your comments…
Until we meet them again …
Amen…
They say there are no words... but you found the right ones. I recall as a child feeling sorry for the "weeds" folks pulled from their yards... you plumb the deepest feelings of compassion and heartbreak...
Your feedback from a universal and compassionate stance, mean the world to me…
One thing I have admired about your poems is when I read them I feels the words coming alive the emotion.. amazing write 10/10
I appreciate your comments coming from your talent and curiosity…you are original too, Vivid…
I love how it ends so openly, and continuously as though that end never ends... The duality in it is also quite attractive in its sensitivity, the dandelions and hearts are almost each in their own bubbles, until one is not, upon contact with the other... This piece speaks to the literary skies...
You weave a mighty pen... May blessings abound your works!
I am certainly blessed for your thoughtful comments, dear poet peer
Young deaths always draw more attention due to the potential loss and the basic feeling of needing to protect the helpless. It is so sad when unknown potential is snuffed out too soon. The metaphor here fits so well and the imagery is great.
Thank you for the kind sentiment and connecting to the words…
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