This is not about the children by Bethany Rivers

I am not a silent poet

The children go to bed each night

afraid for morning to come

tomorrow might be the day

when they’re thrown out

left to die on the streets

The children wake early each morning

afraid there won’t be enough

food in the house

not enough money

to buy milk and bread

The children fall ill from school

where they’re told everyday

they’re no good, they’re lazy,

they’re only good as sweepers

for other people’s shit

The children are dying

ignorant of arts, sciences,

history, philosophy, self-esteem,

but we can’t prosecute the parent –

we voted them in

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