Sterile:
Nothing but sterling bars
and pearly tile
gleaming in stringent light.
Looking down,
my eyes stare back at me.
Clear:
No more cigarette smoke
or dusty air
choking my lungs and
dirtying my
face. No cloud of smog.
Silent:
No moan for help,
plea for food,
giggle for joy,
just dozens of Chinese baby eyes
stare back at me.
Orphan:
Nothing, no one to love,
but busy nannies
and the hope for American
mommies.
So their eyes stare over
the ocean at us.
3 comments:
That is Beautiful!
Very descriptive, it definitely paints a picture.
Mariah
I love it, Janey. Thanks. :)
Bee
Wonderful poem. There is so much truth in it! It really makes you think, and remember how lucky we are to have mothers and fathers.
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