Oh, where has all the laughter gone when the dark falls on barbed wire?
Dawn rises on a land of sorrow where children live under fire.
Tomorrows are times of pain when the dead are exposed to light
And bullets fly to increase the fright of the children of the night.
A cry is born as a child appears, a mother sighs and prays for peace
As the years of his childhood increase.
Parents cry, "order a cease before the children pass on by."
"God," they pray, "is it his day?"
As the bullets fly.
"Tomorrow, tomorrow," he seems to say
As each day passes by.
But as years prod on, faith is lost
In the frost
Of days gone by.
Death is a friend
To the children
Baptised by fire.
Maybe the time will dawn
But by then,
The children are all gone.
Copyright ©2001 Sheryl Silva