With tears forming gentle streams,
I fear that life
Is nothing but ugly puddles
In the broken beer-bottle night,
That the stars
Will fade and fail to shine,
That the faces
Of everyone I love
Will grow as dark
And lonely as mine.
I hear little birds
Singing songs
In a fragile ecological world
Unsafe and dying.
And does God
Hear the numerous prayers I pray
For a wounded young girl
Who doesn’t comprehend
Just how tightly and tenderly
She needs to be held?
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sadness-in-every-direction/
