Q...BONNIE CHILDREN

BONNIE CHILDREN

Don't look out of the window
they are not coming home
your hands locked together
so tight they crush your bones.

Those bonnie children are dancing on the hills
they go round and round and fall down and down.

You put your hands together
but this prey is in-vain
God will not bring them back again.

There's an empty place at a table of tears
A basket of cloths and they are not here.

There are echoes around
In this last play ground,
A wing of a child in play
But all the games ended today.

So take all the powder
And free on the wind
Take all the metal
And grind it to dust
And let it rust

So those little voices will never sing again
But they will mirror on the wind
And echo in the in your rain.