Hold my hand
A little tighter
Dear grandson
As we kneel
At the edge
Of the pit
These gunshots
They are real.
For your five years
I have loved you
Protected
And adored
But my begging
And my pleading
By extremism
Is ignored.
My hand I place
Across your eyes
Softly voice
Do not be afraid
Before this madness
Can be stopped
I will sing a lullaby
In a better place.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2026 03:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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