The unbearable dream

Shall we know the time to still our temper and hold

Onto our hard anger and keep from growing cold

In the filled in graves of soldiers unknown and known,

So that planted flowers on our grave will have grown

And the mothers and children will have grown long old.

 

 

Can we join, forge a peace and share the planet blue

And create a passage to pass our anger through

Through to a long, distant void where none shall return

And all the old, cold pains and anguishes shall burn

And we shall all rise and live free and start anew.

 

Copyright Β© 2017 Grant Fenton – All Rights Reserved

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