84 ~ Plain waste ~

Her blood stained hands wipes the tears off her eye

The wound is hurting she can’t get by

She finds her brother in the rubble, his body is numb

She sits down, wonders what happened to dad & mum

There’s a lump in her throat, she’s all alone

She looks up, is that sound a drone?

– (Ml) Yusuf Omar

#syria #orphans

Once darkness settles, she steps out

From bin to bin, moving about

Rummaging for leftover bits of trashed food

To see images or hear this news, are we not moved?

Although she lives in a distant land

We are not prevented from lending a helping hand

She is my sister and your sister

Let us share pennies & send earnest prayers

The clock is about to strike midnight

Alone in the dark he rides a bike

Few hours non-stop, street after street

He searches for a couple of morsels to eat.

A South African aid convoy drives past

Startled, they force the driver to stop & ask,

The boy says he does not require money immediately

Instead, they should kindly follow him to his family.

With skeptism the driver agrees

Told to sit in the car, they proceed

An hour surpasses, it is a lengthy distance

One step into the home, frozen into silence.

He is a young child

Who’s dad is half paralyzed

A roof covers their heads

But no blankets or beds.

A fragile father lays on the bare concrete floor

Looking around there is not one edible in store

A mere 12 year old

Has to fulfill the mighty role

Of being the worker & caretaker

Over a mother & 6 minor sisters.

Days & nights elapse

With poverty so intense.

The team sits in one corner to make arrangements

So basic necessities could be sent as assistance

His eyes then glisten with tears of gratitude

Unable to adequately thank their selfless contributes.

A wrenching scene engraved in the eyes of its witnesses

Only 1 story from among thousands living in utter helplessness.

Splash for a dashing ambience, all I observe is plain waste

Alas! Functions & events are a sorrowful state

Brethren in atrocious situations many countries around

Do we spare thoughts to innocent civilians on bloody grounds?

Stuck in our comfort zones

Deaf to their distraught groans

Nothing matters as long as we have it going

Barren protested slogans aren’t we saying..

Predicaments of nations will not change

Unless we veer our actions into a good range

What is directed upwards

Is returned downwards.

May we be forgiven

For this treason

Whilst enjoying constant “showers” taken for granted

Upon the act of “I possess a heart” may we get started.

Random posts I should not abandon *wink*.