Rebe de la Paz

A poem I wrote in reflection on the many mother’s losing their children to violence in the streets of Chicago.

Tears running,
ran heavily through the streets
mixing with blood shed from lost souls
traveling a reaper’s path
holding hatred hard within their hearts.

The wailing cries of many mothers losses
crawling, climbing and crucifying concern.

Concrete potter’s fields filled with unknown voices
where shepherd’s search for their lost sheep.

Revenge rips apart ripeness found in youth,
sheltering hatred, havoc and hardships of life.

Poor tears flowing from faces of fear,
a fear ever growing in greatness each year.

Running tears wander and wonder
When death will appear?
Where life has minimal means
Of happiness without tears.