Voices cry to unhearing ears,
Faces are turned away without blinking,
Because the guilt would overpower.
They make for themselves excuses,
That in their hearts they know don’t matter.
A small, steady voice in the depths of thought clamoring for attention
Help them. Help them.
You block it out.
You close your ears.
You don’t look.
You walk away.
A tear-streaked face looks up in pleading,
A flash of light and in a magazine,
The expression is plastered.
The child continues to live her life in agony,
Until her chest stops rising,
Nothing got better,
But I was sitting here,
Feasting on meat,
Complaining that it didn’t taste good,
Dumping my water down the drain,
While she licked hers from the worm filled mud,
Hunches over the yarn,
His fingers pricked and bloody,
For nineteen hours he labors,
Hit and abused,
He is a slave and I am a student,
But I am the one who complains.
Lice filled hair,
Slavery, hunger, pain.
And we pay them no mind.
When will we learn,
When will we stop,
When will we help?
I will look into the eyes of the oppressed,
The dirty, the starving, the least of these,
Rub their backs, tell them I love them,
Give them food and water,
And make up for my insolence,
Tomorrow I will stand up,
I will care,
I will look,
I will spread the story,
Of the little girl that died,
Who was never loved,
Of the young boy,
His life away.
I will tell everyone what they can do to help,
I will give hope to the hopeless.
My generation will join together,
We will love,
We will defy the people who tell us we can’t,
We can and we know it.
We are more powerful than ever,
We will change the world.
And the chest will keep rising,
The heart will keep beating,
The tears will quit falling,
The tummy stop growling,
And a mouth will slowly inch up into a smile,
A beautiful smile,