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Where are the Children?

The minister practices
his sermon in, word
forgetting his deeds
are all that are heard;

The politician is running
for another term, at the task,
not sure of his intentions
no one thought keen, to ask.

"To be perfectly honest..."
to sell his wares, he must lie
the salesman in him
bids him, to try;

Father is barely providing
for the family,
if mother complains
there's no harmony.

Meanwhile, the children
lose the times of their youth,
by maturing too swiftly
because, they know the truth;

say, "Good-bye.", to the children
say, "Hello.", to your peers,
they smile, for they know you
and, they've known you.....for years.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: The High Desert, in the wild west, southern California, U.S. of A.., USA

Favorite Poets: Keates, Poe, Dickinson, and Dr. Seuss. There are a smattering of others, but why bother listing 'em all, ya know?, I also rely on a few of our poets, here....for advice, and what not. I couldn't possibly explain what a fountain of live, effective knowledge we have...right here in our midst ! To catch a glimmer of brilliance, merely visit: the Stream.

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