'This is where we used to play; i can sense it'
All it is, is a hole in the ground.
'My house was right...here'
Standing on a mass of rubble opening up her arms.
'And my family lies here'
Pointing to a mound of dirt...
'With everyone else who lived in my villlage'
A small community ruined by war,
One old lady left, ready to die,
In her home: a pile of rubble.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 12:35pm on Jan 05, 2025 via server WEBX1.