You may show me children, laughter and fluffiness
Still, I cry.
You may give me your fulfilled love
slide your hand across my face
Or shake your body in a funny pace
Still, I cry
You may point to the sun,
Gaze at the glowing moon,
Pick pink roses and lilies in the afternoon—
Still, I cry.
For the world is on fire
Children are starving, and flowers go missing.
And All the tears from the children’s nights
Could never be enough to turn off the fight,
Not even the sunniest summer days,
The tender sweetness of a holiday,
Nor all the poetry a canvas imparts,
Could ever bring light to a broken heart…
Caroline 22.08.2025