The vultures hover above their tiny heads.
The wind here has never stood still, the putrid smell of decay fills the air.
Their dirty hands, the sewer nearby and the food crumbs tell an endless tale of survival.
There is no healing except from the spit of the child-bearer.
A life’s worth of lessons learnt, but there is no classroom in sight.
The friends are also here hunting for any pieces of metal or glass that they might stumble upon.
In the moonlight, the yellow teeth smile where a good catch for the day is an old ring on the finger.
I pick up the pieces of the broken glass picture frame with my hands, vary of every piece left behind on the floor. Tears run down my cheeks and there is only one thought in my head. One by one I collect them nervously, this is my one year old’s favorite place to play in the entire house. Right behind the TV stand, next to the dusty fireplace, this is his corner. But, again, there is only one thought in my head. I stand staring at the garbage can still holding the plastic bag full of the glass shreds, labeled carefully, and wrapped tightly, praying no child will ever hurt his hand picking through my debris. I write the above for all those children who make a living scouring through our trash and waste and who live each day at the end of this world.
With endless love and compassion that they don’t go to bed hungry tonight.
* * *
About The Article Author:
Our mission with FutureSTRONG Academy – to grow children who respect themselves, their time and their capabilities in a world where distractions are just a click or a swipe away.
I see myself as an advocate for bringing social, emotional and character development to families, schools and communities. I never want to let this idea out of my sight – Our children are not just GPAs. I’m a Writer and a Certified Master Coach in NLP and CBT. Until 2017, I was also a Big Data Scientist. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel. Namasté.
Write to me or call me. Tell me what support from me looks like.
Program Director & Essential Life Skills Coach for Kids and Busy Parents
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
* It’s not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It’s something you have or don’t more than I do, because there’s no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
When Home Is Still Here And We Aren’t
* Unlike refugees, who don't have a home behind or infront of them, we have a home. But, Will it remember all those mornings that the woodpecker made mating calls from its roof?How on sleepless nights, someone read and made notes from a borrowed J....
ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. (Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..)
* * * The original English version: Dear Refugee, my life must go on.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. * నన్నల్లుకున్న వెచ్చని కార్డిగన్, మెత్తని నా అరచేతుల మధ్య పొగలు కక్కే ‘లికరస్’ టీ........... పౌర హక్కుల్ని...
Why Darkness Can Be a Gift
* If a person has any greatness inside, it comes to light, not in one flamboyant hour, but in the ledger of one’s daily work.~ Beryl Markham * Years ago, you had looked up to see if anyone loved what you wrote.You tried to look in their eyes to...
Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..
* * * The translated Telugu version: ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. * It's not too unthinkable,sipping licorice tea in my cardigan,And day dreaming of a life of civil liberties....
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
* It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
Perceiving My Anthropology
* I don't know what moves him.I remember the day he came back home tohide his red eyes behind that newspaperafter he lit his mother's pyre.This is the man, the brunt of all my emotions,whose lifetime fits in this poem. It's mostly the appalling nature of...
To My Estranged One
* Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness.When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself, And, when the war of words ended, It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks.It would never happen to me, was the conviction I...
* Always close by my side, he mocks me.Calling the lack of endearment around me,self-inflicted.Late in the afternoon, at work,“All these people around you need you tobreak their bread”, he mulls. At the bar,he demands to knowwhy I hadn't invited myself to her...
Still Standing, Still Standing..
* The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city.. * At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears..I ponder while I drink the primary cocktail,a...
Dear Sons: Full Disclosure
* A life's worth of choices. Subjected to, day in, day out.Freedom of expression. Empathy exercises. Vulnerability followed by weakness. Protection from cold. Letting the homeless die from it. Health of the children. Love. A gentle kind word. People who didn't...
Now – A Poem on Time
* Of all the things I have and can desire to have, my time on this earth, and the time my kids will have of mine is finite. I am mindful of that. What I am also painfully mindful is that I do not choose well how I spend it. As an adult, time and the freedom to...
Questions, just ask!
Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Bringing a Group? Email us for a special price!
this is so heartfelt and moving,
your words touch,
powerful reflection of another kind of life.
way to go!
if you wish to enjoy fresh talents more,
scan the participants list….
we always have two things in mind:
#1: return favors,
#2: do 18 poets NEW…
I see you almost everywhere around our community, thus I believe that you can contribute and add more sunshine to our place.
love your work here.
Wow, a very unique and great stlye you have. Long may it continue. I am very impressed with this piece.
Here is my poem for the rally
Kindest thank you,
deep and moving poetry, Heart.. well said..
mine for the Rally is Here
The word I kept hearing in my head as I read this…heart. This poem is all heart and I enjoyed reading it.
Such depth! A beauty of a thing–brimming with passion. Quite impressive.
Your words definitely make one appreciate the simple things one can take for granted…thank you for sharing this.
Very touching poem.. Loved it…
–Someone Is Special–
I like this and your style. Good job conveying your emotions and the scene. Makes me think about the things I take for granted and the ways things are different in other places.
These visuals are lovely. Yellow teeth, you know? Brilliant, honey.
Thank you all guys, I am just so thrilled to pieces with you visitors, sleep is going to evade me tonight!
Monday Poetry Potluck Is NOW open, linking is open from Sunday 8pm to Tuesday, 8pm, welcome join us by linking in 1 to 3 poems, you could use an old poem, the more you share, the happier we are…hurry up!
Thanks in advance.
Hope to see you in our lovely potluck…