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