Unfortunate Children Of Fortunate Parents.
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UNFORTUNATE CHILDREN OF FORTUNATE PARENTS
They sleep and wake up
With terrifying images in their heads
Their minds beclouded with thunderous fear
As innocent blood
Wash the face of their streets
And vulnerables
Slaughtered on slabs of tears
In the midst of plenty
They live in glaring lack
Becoming refugees
In their own homeland
Hunger strip their bowels naked
Opening the door for death to come and feast
If they knew these would await them
Perhaps they would have refused to be born
At least not to parents
Who would sacrifice their blood
On altars of selfishness
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