Do you cry?
over glaring tree stumps,
of branches past;
over fallen leaves, torn flowers
imprinted, in a muddy cast.
Do you shudder?
at broken homes,
wooden caskets;
that lay beneath the rubble,
crushed, li'l baby baskets.
Do you wince?
when axes slit,
through carcasses;
or when you see life
lying, on streets, lifeless.
Do you pray?
for those who willed,
but were bent, by might;
or for lives lost
on a stormy summer night.
over glaring tree stumps,
of branches past;
over fallen leaves, torn flowers
imprinted, in a muddy cast.
Do you shudder?
at broken homes,
wooden caskets;
that lay beneath the rubble,
crushed, li'l baby baskets.
Do you wince?
when axes slit,
through carcasses;
or when you see life
lying, on streets, lifeless.
Do you pray?
for those who willed,
but were bent, by might;
or for lives lost
on a stormy summer night.
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