Sonnet # 337
Each morning bright I children see delight.
Each morning dark I children see sad crying.
The mornings bright`ve milk, bread for appetitte.
The mornings dark not e`en water for drinking.
Each night, lo, bright I happy children see.
Each night yes dark I children see so sobbing.
The nights bright`ve beds for when they`re asleep sleep.
The nights are dark not e`en a floor for resting.
So I as if I`d plenty of everything,
A palace my small room, my clothes all gold
Do come to feel I have too much of spring
When there`re children to misery they`re sold.
And then I litte eat, think have a feast
And look at children who their food has ceased.
poem by Luis Estable
Added by Poetry Lover
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