Bleeds red <br />the hole in my heart; <br />blue roses wreathed <br />pain stabs my heart. <br /> <br />I weep at the broken twig <br />bleating calf <br />fallen leaf <br />and the fur-less chick <br /> <br />I sob at the motherless babes <br />the blind kid miserable <br />the sinking huts <br />and struggling poverty <br /> <br />my heart bleeds <br />when heartless hearts <br />sans kindness bakes <br />the poor emotions <br />of conscientious souls. <br /> <br />Is there a god? <br />does he ever sees <br />when the poor weep <br />and the rich sleep <br />Is he awake? <br />and wipe the tears <br />and wake up the others.<br /><br />lalitha iyer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hole-in-my-heart-6/
