Turn on your TV,

What do you see?

A child,

Trapped.

Not by the bars of school,

But by the bars of poverty.

Never to learn how to hold a pen,

But they'll learn how to hold a gun.

Never to learn how to make a heartbeat,

But they'll learn how to make a heart stop.

Why?

 

We've become so immune

To what we see.

We listen with our eyes,

Not with our ears.

A great person once asked us 

To "Heal The World",

But we are hurting the world,

We are hurting God's creation,

We are hurting his children.

Yet, we blame him.

We

Blame

Him.

For the children,

Who call him

With the phone in their hands,

Only to be met

With silence

And a voice,

Nagging at them, saying 

"Sorry, He'll never be available".

We blame him

For the children

Crying for their mothers,

Whilst their stomachs cries

From hunger.

The child or the hunger;

Guess which one will die first?

We blame him

For the children

Who will NEVER see their mother's faces,

Who will NEVER taste freedom,

Who will NEVER live.

Is that fair?

Is that God?

 

Let's stop blaming God.

We're far from perfect too;

We allow poverty and pain too.

We allow children

To only see their families

From a frozen piece of paper;

An unreachable moment in time.

We allow terrified girls

Who were taught

To not talk to strangers,

To become arrested

(And yes, I said arresred)

Arrested with the handcuffs of marriage

By the patriarchal police.

Thrown into a jail cell,

Where each bar is coated

With the strength of misogyny.

Forced to accept a life sentence,

With the vows:

"I promise to be controlled",

"To never refuse contact",

"To worship you",

"To have no life".

 

This has to end;

NOW.

 

Turn on your TV,

What do you see?

A child, 

Trapped.

Same story.

This time,

Don't change the channel!

Look at that child;

Look into their eyes.

Feel their sorrow,

Feel their despair.

Taste the salty ocean

Brimming from their eyes.

Listen with your ears,

Not with your eyes.

Don't just sit there;

Do something!