My Country’s Shame

The shame falls on me like showers of hail, it drums on my burdened head. And I want it to help me shed my skin and bury me but- Would I be a whitened sepulchre? Faceless with my nation’s baseless and graceless way of torturing small children by turning them back, rejecting their cries because… Continue reading My Country’s Shame

Street Children

Shivering they silently stood outside, ever and always outside of all that is.   They waited until a voice kindled the terror they remembered, and fowl money passed hands dirtying the innocence of a four year old child. ——— The others encouraged them to  go in and accept that to survive is to strive and… Continue reading Street Children