While the Children Die – Original Poem

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

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