Beyond the bars
I can hear the rain.
I can hear the children as they play-
Splashing up the puddles.
I can look out beyond my bared windows- That is all I can do,
I can look out into the rain.
I know what it is, life-
To be able to see but never touch.
I can hear their crying-
Those around me in this damp cold cell.
Some try to escape while others go insane.
They try to dig out of the cell-
But the cell is made of solid stone.
Innocent I tell them-
Still they believe me not,
Unjust I will tell them-
Still they believe me not.
Blood flows down my face in a torrent like a stream.
There is not a single act of justice or peace in a war.
Those who are crying out- being tortured till death- cry out in torment and pain.
Can you tell me small child, so meek and humble- what is it like to feel the rain?
By: Sara Runions
