Beautiful Disaster


A man on the park bench
Clinging to his only source of heat
A worn-out jacket
Obviously too small
Plastic bag by his side
Containing all he owns
Trying to sleep

A man next to the park bench
Waiting for the bus
Starbucks Latte in hand
Wrapped up
In a warm winter coat
Scarf, hat, gloves
Briefcase in hand
Off to work

A child
No older then ten
Rifle in hand
Gun pointed at his father
Soldier barking commands
Pointing gun at him
“Kill him, or die”
Tear-filled eyes
He pulls the trigger
Ordered to stop crying
And join the ranks

A child
No older then ten
Cell phone in hand
Screaming at his father
“I hate you! Leave me alone!”
Storming to his room
Slamming the door
Sitting in front of a computer
Venting about how
He hates his dad and
His horrible life

A young girl
Maybe twelve
Locked in a room
Sees between ten to twenty
Men a day
Sold into slavery
For mere dollars
Completely exposed
And vulnerable
As they rip off her clothes
She cries silently

A young girl
Around twelve
Covered in a paint
She calls make-up
She wishes those older
Boys would notice her
She wears short skirts
And exposing tops
Craving attention
Seeking love
In all the wrong places


What is it going to take
To realize
We don't have it that bad???
When are we
Going to stand up
And do something???
Just because you
Pretend not to see it
Doesn't mean its not there.  

We need
Open hearts
Open minds
Open arms

“To the world, you may be one person.  But to one person, you may be the world”

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