By Mark A Leon

There are children dying born into the luxury of famine, disease and war 

The rest of us waste away in a toxic ocean of gluttony, shame and emotionless discord 

Letting our fingers and mindless thoughts spread hate poisoning the blood stream of humanity 

A digital heart 
A virtual hug
A one-liner of compassion 
A dollar sign as a symbol of valor
Not a single helping hand 

We represent the world 
Ambassadors to the generation of now, so that we may have a generation of tomorrow 

We are leaders in a leaderless society 
Policy written by the blood of the rich while the blood of the poor are flooding into nameless graves 

Children are crying for a taste of the bread of the land 
Yet only swallowing the dust of a helpless fate 

In the distance, beyond the cries, far from the death

Behind the gates, the mansions, yachts, planes and the islands, laughter and wicked drunken charms hide their cowardly faces

Turning their back to the need

Children are dying 
Hear the cries

The sorrow lies not in the fate of weak, but in the chosen powerlessness of the powerful 

Shame away the guilt for those without feeling 
Wipe away the misfortune they will never see 
Continue to toast in the darkness of lives unfulfilled while the children die