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