From the darkness I hear a voice,
a sad and small voice, asking for help.
Or, sometimes, cloaked in anger or fear
it shouts and threatens me with weapons,
or images of violence.
And the tears,
from the depths of a soul
that knows no peace,
living in a land of unbelievable richness,
sleeping on a bed of filth,
while the sounds of dealers and gunshots
drown out the peaceful silence of night,
provide a bittersweet release for the
child with an empty stomach,
or a bruised and battered body.
The beautiful children with eyes
wise beyond their years
fill the nightly news.
And, the wonder and curiosity on their faces
as they receive the few minutes of attention
from the “other world,”
as their parent is carted off to the
jail, or the
hostital, or the
morgue,
and they are left to their world
more frightened than ever,
to make sense of their “reality.”
And the news ends,
and the TV’s go off,
and the “other world” enters
a peaceful night.
Of course the alarms are set
to protect them from the hunger,
and the doors and windows are
shut and locked
to protect them from the spirits
that hunt at night,
hoping to steal what they never had,
knowing not that what they take is not
what they need,
but at best is only a hollow symbol
of what should be theirs by right of birth,
as it is mine and yours.
And the years pass and the talk goes on
in the Great Courts, and
Ivy covered halls of Academia,
by the great minds of the land,
but the children cry
and the children pain
and the children
(those who live)
grow, twisted and scared,
into adulthood,
to live in the shadow world
of the benevolent society,
always reminded of their “place.”
While politicians legislate, and
judges adjudicate, and
the laws emancipate,
the real world continues to segregate
and mostly
we just procrastinate
dealing with a solution.
It is time to awaken the sleeping giant
and renew the vows that wed
this country to the people who took her
in the name of freedom and democracy,
(not appreciating the irony of their act).
It is time to see our country
not through our eyes, or
their eyes, but
through wise eyes.
It is time to be fair in thought and action.
It is time to be more than fair.
It is time to right the wrongs of the past with
present actions that show we care.
It is time to acknowledge the true wealth of the land
and the true owners of that wealth.
It is time to soothe the cry of the hungry, angry, frightened child,
by honoring that child
and providing the child’s needs,
so that we no longer have to say:
Sometimes,
From the darkness I hear a voice,
a sad and small voice asking for help,
Or, sometimes cloaked in anger or fear
it shouts and threatens me with weapons
or images of violence.
I wrote this about twenty years ago after reading Savage Inequalities, By Jonathan Kozol. I still feel much the same as I did then.