We are all the same, you see, there is no us and them.

Half a world away

A man wakes at four thirty in the morning

He prays to his god that this day

He might find the one ruby

That buys his family out of poverty

Half a world away

A mother cradles her infant child

Her breasts offer little milk

Food is scarce in the refugee camp

And her other children must eat as well

Half a world away

A nine year old boy walks

With his father and uncle

To the coal mines of India

Wages are low, he must work also

He is not the youngest

We are all the same, you see, there is no us and them.

Here in my home town

A man wakes early in the morning

And puts a gun to his head

He hasn’t found work for years

He can endure no more

Surely they are better off without him

Here in my home town

A mother leaves her children alone

She must work, they must eat

She cannot afford a sitter

Protective services arrives

They are a family no more

Here in my home town

A seven year old boy

Runs errands in the back alleys

Of a forgotten block in LA

His boss is a drug dealer

His errands are white packets

We are all the same, you see, there is no us and them.

What man does not desire to provide for his family?

Which mother would not her own meals for her children?

How many childhoods are stolen because of economics?

Half a world away, or here in my home town.

We are all the same, you see, there is no us and them.

author’s note:  the scenarios used in this prose are real.   a recent study released revealed a high increase in suicides in the u.s. due to long term unemployment issues.   here’s to thinking….and to those who struggle along side us – half a world away.    frankie