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Children
February 10, 2009
Their cries wake us in the night.
Their laughter heals all wounds.
Their voices are like beautiful music.
They make you feel all is right.
But when the time comes for them to go,
There are no more cries in the night,
Laughter in the halls,
Or music in the air.
Just Silence.
The silence you've been waiting for.
But all you can do is shed tears.
Wounds left alone to heal from hurt.
Music left unread and unsung.
Peaceful undisturbed nights.
Hearts left to mend alone.
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