Post by darkvampireangel on Jun 14, 2006 17:54:17 GMT
Poem: Ballad of Birmingham
Poet: Dudley Randall
Alana was walking through the corridors, she glanced around and not seeing anyone, climbed on a window sill. she began to recite a poem her mother had taught her. it was called 'Ballad of Birmingham'
Alana finsished quietly, she couldn't help but feel sad for the poor girl and mother in the poem. why were humans so cruel to eachother? it was something she would never understand.
Poet: Dudley Randall
Alana was walking through the corridors, she glanced around and not seeing anyone, climbed on a window sill. she began to recite a poem her mother had taught her. it was called 'Ballad of Birmingham'
Ballad of Birmingham
"Mother dear, may I go downtown
Instead of out to play,
And march the streets of Birmingham
In a freedom march today?"
"No, baby, no, you may not go
For the dogs are fierce and wild
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren't good for a little child"
"But, mother, I won't be alone
Other children will go with me,
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free"
"No, baby, no, you may not go
For I fear those guns will fire.
You may go to church instead and sing in the children's choir."
She has combed
and brushed her
night-dark hair
And bathed rose
petal sweet
And drawn white
gloves on her
small brown
hands,
And white shoes on her feet
The mother
smiled to know
that her child
Was in the sacred place,
But that smile
was the last
smile
to come upon
her face.
For when she
heard the explosion,
Her eyes grew
wet and wild.
She raced
through the
streets of
Birmingham
Calling for her
child.
She clawed through bits of
glass and brick,
Then lifted out a shoe.
"Oh, here's the shoe
my baby wore,
But baby where are you?"
Instead of out to play,
And march the streets of Birmingham
In a freedom march today?"
"No, baby, no, you may not go
For the dogs are fierce and wild
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren't good for a little child"
"But, mother, I won't be alone
Other children will go with me,
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free"
"No, baby, no, you may not go
For I fear those guns will fire.
You may go to church instead and sing in the children's choir."
She has combed
and brushed her
night-dark hair
And bathed rose
petal sweet
And drawn white
gloves on her
small brown
hands,
And white shoes on her feet
The mother
smiled to know
that her child
Was in the sacred place,
But that smile
was the last
smile
to come upon
her face.
For when she
heard the explosion,
Her eyes grew
wet and wild.
She raced
through the
streets of
Birmingham
Calling for her
child.
She clawed through bits of
glass and brick,
Then lifted out a shoe.
"Oh, here's the shoe
my baby wore,
But baby where are you?"
Alana finsished quietly, she couldn't help but feel sad for the poor girl and mother in the poem. why were humans so cruel to eachother? it was something she would never understand.
