I wear a tear for those who died
Their scattered memories and bones,
A flower for the ones that lied
Who perch above the broken homes.
I tore a petal, tore a leaf
They fell in silence to the floor,
Each one a symbol of the grief
Which masks the cries they’ll hear no more.
And in the ground the wistful shoots
Will push for peace and love and grace,
Before they’re poisoned at the roots
By those who keep us in our place.
© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020