Behind the wire beauty lies
I see children at play skipping rope
Their mother looks down from the window above
Her heart filled with love and hope
The garden is green, full of flowers,
The birds frequent there every day,
The neighbourhood is bustling and the sun shines upon,
The children, innocent, at play
The building is painted bright colours,
Bright murals adorn the stone wall
Painted with love by those who live there,
The children had painted them all
Music is heard through the open window,
Followed by the mother in song,
The children who know every word,
Begin to sing along
On the surface the song sounds uplifting,
On the surface the words appear glad,
But if you listen closely you will notice,
That the message conveyed's in fact sad
I no longer can see children playing,
Hear singing, or see walls coloured bright,
Instead I can only hear a mother's praying,
For her children who died in the fight
The garden is taken over by weed and rubble,
And through the wire graffiti is splayed
As cold as the cold stone walls
Where once, happiness was displayed
But amidst the trail of destruction,
Behind the wire three red poppies stand tall,
Restoring hope to a new generation,
And love, within its walls
Poem by Lia Bell
Image by Robyn Carter
I recently uploaded an image to my photoblog, which inspired a good friend of mine to write this poem. I think it's a fantastic and goes with the image perfectly. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.
