Whenever you pass by a child
you think
why must we live through such a horrid stage

Whenever you pass roadkill
you feel sorrow with a hint of disgust.

Whenever you look into their eyes
what do you see.

I see the truth, the story,
the sorrow of their lives.

But as you pass, and stare into the eyes of the lost, you seek redemption, hope, and a hint of sympathy.

But in return, the stranger will look you in the eye, stare, sigh, and walk away.

Whenever you pass a mother holding her child’s hand, you feel remorse.
For your mother has left long ago.


I Have Spoken.