Screams of EightA Poem by WillaDanversSomeone else's experience gave me the need to capture it in poem formFrom what I knew it wasn’t going to be good, I knew of the wreckage, and of the potential, What I didn’t know, Was the screams of eight,
Agonizing and pain filled screams, Adding fuel to the flames, Encouraging the flames to eat burning flesh, The smell of death lingering in the air,
We were first on scene, First to hear the screams of eight, We were first on scene, And we didn’t get the help we needed,
You gave them every possible thing, To get over hearing those screaming children, But you left us to go over and over, The haunting scream following us in every way,
We stood there unable to do a thing, The flames had done their damage, The kids had no hope, And we, we were hopeless,
From what I knew, they were only young, Three kids dead at the age of eight, Eaten alive by the flames, Tortured only to torture others, This memory plagues my mind, The cries and screams of three, Screaming for someone to help, Only to be answered with the silence of death,
Now I am the one being tortured, Silently screaming for help, Pleading for someone to notice my cries, Only to be answered with silence of fear,
To this day, I remember those screams, I say it doesn’t affect me, not after this time, But nothing can heal those wounds, Nothing can remove those screams from my mind.
© 2016 WillaDanversFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on October 16, 2016 Last Updated on October 16, 2016 AuthorWillaDanversAuckland, New ZealandAboutI am a part time poet, who's words sometimes ring true but otherwise have only gathered information from music, stories or a singular feeling. Anything really. Enjoy the words, and leave a few kin.. more..Writing
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