|General Poetry posted June 18, 2013|
A dad whose child has become a victim of a terrorist attack.
My child in the blast
No one came that day,
Neither did they come today,
I switched channels,
Every channel showed the same,
The same old bomb blast
The same old terrorist attack,
Tears kept rolling down,
World for me had come to a stop,
My eyes became red;
My children were in the mall,
After a long week,
And were greeted with a blast,
Phone calls all day and
Police files went in vain,
With moist cheeks I kept waiting,
Waiting and waiting,
Waiting for sun to rise...
5-7-5 Poetry Contest contest entry
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