Broken Innocence

Poverty is like punishment for a crime you didn't commit.

I watch as Mama stands outside,
She won't tell me what she's doing
and tells me to close the blinds.
I listen.
I watch as my younger brother plays
with a small brass fork.
He is hungry, and so am I.
He let's the fork drop from his hands,
as he starts to say something...
then changes his mind.
After a long while,
Mama comes back.
there is no sense of hope in her eyes,

No food today

My brother turns to me,
searching for answers.
Could it be that we are not
seen by the eyes of God?
Were we being punished?

My eyes scrutinized my brother,
remembering that he had forgotten 
to say his prayers this morning.
I would make him say them twice tonight!

I wonder if then,
we would have food again
but I don't ask...
It makes Mama cry.

Reviews

[ron]

This is a sad poem. Unfortunately it is ture eve for today. very well written. I hope that some of our leaders read this so they can get their heads back on and quiet fighting about petty stuff and get to whats important. Thi is a very powerfull write.

[Shaunna Harper]

Very sad, very effective. Maybe losing the exclamation point from the end of the penultimate stanza would make it a little more effective though? Just a thought. I enjoyed this one, so well done. :)

[Keith]

That is very well done. I want to cry for those children.