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