She Cried

May 13, 2009
By Anonymous

She cried.
The tear slid down her cheek.
It left a streak on her wrinkled face.

She stood there, motionless.
No wind.
No rain.
No help.

Hopeless, staring,
Hands outstretched.
Her tongue parched.
Her skin cracked.

She was stark.
She was desolate.
She was barren.

She was the Murray,
But no-one heard.

The author's comments:
This poem describes the desperate plight of the River Muarry in the parched, dry country of Australia.

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This article has 1 comment.

sunshine said...
on May. 19 2009 at 6:50 am
"Good job well done!"

certainly not an easy topic to write about

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