We feel so pitiful
in our little play of pathos’
over such unimportant things
and a child weeps, for real
somewhere in the world
Joy is drunk from a cup of milk,
Happiness is a grain of rice,
Life is gruel thickened and sticky
and a child weeps, for real
in deserts, children are sucking sand,
in mountains children’s souls are sold,
babies are fed whiskey to numb their starvation
in dry prairies shush,
and another child weeps, for real
death is nothing more than shift
of vulture’s eye,
a slow and enviable release
from fragmenting bones
of belief someone care
and another child weeps, for real
at being free of us
Author notes
Picture taken by Kevin Carter
In a list
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Comments
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free of us...
This is such a powerful work poet! It reaches right in through your ribcage and rips the heart out of you. I can't bare to look at that image for more than a few seconds... but that's the problem isn't it? the world averts it's eyes and the dying continues! This is a stunning work!
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little starving child and the carrion bird...tears but still so much acceptance; tomorrow is always a chance to change things, only if we learn today... well done...PK
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The truth is painful,
though you painted a masterpiece here...
"We feel so pitiful
in our little play of pathos’
over such unimportant things
and a child weeps, for real"
So Tragic, So Sad, So Real!
~ Nicky♥
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What a sad piece but such a truthful view at what is going on today. How can a child be hungry when there is so much waste in this world. Where is the balance.
A very enlightening write. Thank you sister.
Soulful Woman
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