A Poem For Darlie Routier

Written for s young Mother on Death Row in Texas. http://www.fordarlieroutier.org/




I know not how my sister meets her day,
The day without the touch of loving hands.
Belief can change what haunts the troubled clay,
Thus we aspire to see the peaceful lands.
I know not how my sister sees her day,
I cannot imagine what it is like
To have those days, I am without a way
To know her sad life or live out her fight,
I know not how my sister makes her day.
We keep the faith, We fight for what is right,
We know that truth is stronger than their nay,
The lies they say slows not the holy fight.
Truth triumphs over all those haunting lies,
We make the snoozing people hear her cries.



I am not related to the subject of this poem.

To Henry

They have turned out the lights, Henry,
They have turned out the lights.
Life had the means to charm
Until we went on down
To Sarajevo.

We came in like mild sheep,
We came in like tame sheep.
We knew nothing of war,
We lost our innocence
And with it our clear faith.

We need not tears on end, Henry
We need not weap for us.
The world had need of faith,
And we had need of joy,
All we witnessed was a dirge.

We came out broke,
We came out busted.
Good times were once our own,
The sweetness would not end,
Then came the fatal crash.

We were riddled again, Henry,
We were blasted again.
It started with stukas
Versus horses and closed
With that dead mushroom cloud.

1. Assasination of Archduke Ferdnand and his wife 2. World War I 3. The Roaring twenties
4. The Depression 5. World War II.