The celebration of Nevermore
Screaming sirens-nevermore.
Mothers hands,like cold lily-pads,pulling me out of bed-nevermore.
Our heartbeats,close together,like twin bass drums in the dark-nevermore.
Leaving Lola behind-nevermore.
Lola and I crying-nevermore.
My mother, feeling our way down the darkened stairwell and comforting my ear-nevermore.
Looking at my sleepy friends with their lily-pad mothers-nevermore.
Fear in my soul silenced by forced child play-nevermore.
Sounds of hell outside, ignored by all-nevermore.
People on top playing with our lives, like children with toys-nevermore.
Bombs of hate-nevermore.
The war of hate-nevermore.
