The following was written in Ulaan-Bataar, Mongolia after visiting a government-run orphanage.
They sit together, alone
clinging to strangers
hoping... ever hoping
to find the elusive -
that which is patient and kind
and keeps no record of wrongs.
wilted flowers all
groping for life
for beauty.
I saw it with eyes opened
that had been closed.
No comments:
Post a Comment