Salty tears fill vacant eyes that have seen too many atrocities that no child should ever witness Crying, following grown ups wherever they go Sobbing in time with their shuffling feet Weighed down by their winter clothes and bundled belongings Going anywhere but here
Bjorn is hosting Monday Quadrille at D’Verse Poets. Tonight he has prompted us with the word “Eyes” I saw a heartbreaking segment in the news last night and it featured a little Ukrainian boy who couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4, sobbing his eyes out as he wandered along with the refugees. It touched me deeply.
