Orphans of a World Gone By

Amber Camilleri

Small and helplessly seeking, eyes not yet open
Velveteen fur on translucent skin
Milk, seen through skin, a pale blotch
Never more to taste the welcoming comfort

Of mother’s tender care

Our careless hands attempt to soothe
As we force feed artificiality
Wiping nostrils clogged with blood
Afraid of what the future holds

Or doesn’t as the case may be

We do our best in each attempt
And death claims many in the night
Time heals aches and hardens hearts
Against the lonely, thankless chore

I long to never see you again

Page Twenty

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