She looks up at the sky,
And stares at the star
Wondering what to do,
With her mother afar.
She was quite sure,
That she won’t survive
Yet she was here,
Wondering why…
It wasn’t her.
She remembers the rain,
The tears and the sweat
As she tried to run away,
From the strangers they met.
She remembers the guns,
The haste of the bullets,
The way they rushed past her,
The way they ruined her life,
The way they hit her mother.
She was quite sure,
She wouldn’t survive
Yet she was here,
Wondering why…
It wasn’t her.
She knew it wasn’t her fault,
But she can’t help wondering
That if it was her,
Their hearts won’t be thundering.
But she must not give up hope,
For she must show her demons
To look up at the sky,
At the shining star of passion.
A/N
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Hope
PoetryThis was the 1st poem I ever wrote so I'm open to changes and suggestions and constructive criticism. Please feel free to comment on it . Thanks!
