To Bobby

I'll put flowers at your feet
And I will sing to you so sweet
And hope my words will carry home to your heartYou left us marching on the road
And said how heavy was the load
But the years were young, the struggle barely had its startDo you hear the voices in the night, Bobby?
They're crying for you
See the children in the morning light, Bobby
They're dyingNo one could say it like you said it
We'd only try and just forget it
You stood alone upon the mountain till it was sinkingAnd in a frenzy we tried to reach you
With looks and letters we would beseech you
Never knowing what, where or how you were thinkingDo you hear the voices in the night, Bobby?
They're crying for you
See the children in the morning light, Bobby
They're dyingPerhaps the pictures in the Times
Could no longer be put in rhymes
When all the eyes of starving children are wide openYou cast aside the cursed crown
And put your magic into a sound
That made me think your heart was aching or even brokenBut, if God hears my complaint, He will forgive you
And so will I, with all respect, I'll just relive you
And likewise, you must understand these things we give youLike these flowers at your door
And scribbled notes about the war
We're only saying the time is short and there is work to doAnd we're still marching on the streets
With little victories and big defeats
But there is joy and there is hope and there's a place for youAnd you have heard the voices in the night, Bobby
They're crying for you
See the children in the morning light, Bobby
They're dying