Bleeds red
the hole in my heart;
blue roses wreathed
pain stabs my heart.
I weep at the broken twig
bleating calf
fallen leaf
and the fur-less chick
I sob at the motherless babes
the blind kid miserable
the sinking huts
and struggling poverty
my heart bleeds
when heartless hearts
sans kindness bakes
the poor emotions
of conscientious souls.
Is there a god?
does he ever sees
when the poor weep
and the rich sleep
Is he awake?
and wipe the tears
and wake up the others.
lalitha iyer
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hole-in-my-heart-6/
