| Kiss Of Life Privilege mocks me As I sit in front my monitor, Suspended in an angle of Comfort Hoping to capture a slight Rhythm of your heart� My melody is weighed down Bearing humanity�s most tragic tale Excavated From the darkest recesses Of Mother earth These are the weeping Memories of millions Born into the Squalors Of Creation�s defiled Existence Bearing the whole world�s Misdeeds On their tiny, little Shoulders Not even a Comfortless embrace To get them Acclimated Into a cold Ruinous Subsistence� Their motto is to simply Survive Their anguished soliloquies Translucent In the dismal emptiness Of their wide Eyes. An orphan�s tale Is seldom Heard Above the merciless Din of bombings, Bloodshed, Third world Creation, Mankind distortion, Urban Dis-eases Pregnant with Innocence So pure Yet Destined for a life Of wretchedness Certain of the knowledge That they are born For a reason Yet fuzzy about God�s design They are bursting Through The searing seams Of jagged Life Concealing Harrowing Stories dripping With hatred And abuse Side stepping Invisible mines Overflowing into Gutters of shameful Demise They are the underground Connections linking Washington To Baghdad Nairobi To London Beijing to Soweto Global networks Spawning generations Of the dispossessed Wrapped up In the miniature frame Of a single Hungry Child An orphan�s tale Is seldom heard As it Can hardly fit the Neat packages of Sanitized Media Clips They are society�s glitches Tucked safely within history�s Expunged lines Born to be forgotten Yet their names remain etched In the eternal scrolls Of humanity�s pathetic decline My own lavish reality Echoes hypocrisy How silly I am to Seek comfort by Typing on this Hopeless keyboard My words are inept My voice discordant Against The silent canvas Of the universe�s Distressed Eye Let�s offer the kiss of life To a single dying Child... -Maliha Balala |