Children Living in Poverty
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The Tiny Kitchen Maid By Kaelynn Calac She be nimble, she be small Her smile bright, complection dull With eyes of ice and hair of straw That Tiny Kitchen Maid She works all day, spares her play
Should I be more conscious of the rough brick pressing up against my back? Is my insignificance rooted solely in the pavement of downtown Corvallis? Warm hello's can't pierce such
Natural disasters are spiking like a bed of nails Dead bodies dangle from the ceiling, falling from seasons like snowflakes No stories are the same Spread your wings, warrior
You and I originate from the same place Seen the hungry and the poor Close to touching death's face I remember as if it was yesterday Young with bombs ready to explode Non stop laughter and play
Sticky fingers and fraction build twinkle toes and good God's grace can help to save a poor boy's family; Must I even present the poor boy's case?
A cry arises from across the sea Begging for mercy, longing for peace. A face, without a name. Just a child searching for love, yet drowning in a sea of evil, gasping for air