Ode to the Youth

Restless sleep at battles end
and neither dawn
nor day
could ressurect,
The wounded,
weary,
shell shocked Youth
that neither present
nor future
could select.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741