This Child

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed, those who are homeless snd are not sheltered”Dwight D. Eisenhower


Photo by Gregory Colbert

 

Born in dead of winter
under a darkling moon
at the waning of hearts

a bewildered child
conceived in chaos
lacking heritage
in freefall of fear

searching for foothold
to climb from this fate

abandoned
nomad of the streets
longing for clarity
for a sense of identity

hungry for love
to fill an empty soul
hungry for food
to fill an empty
aching belly

sorrow wells deep

yet
hope endures
in an innocent heart

though enwrapped in sadness
the light of dreams
always holds flame
even if but a flicker

see this child
weighted with the burden
of cruel abandonment
heavy of heart
felled by hungers

see this child

this child
this day
dreams of flying

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 


12 thoughts on “This Child”

  1. You went to a place of darkness with this child who dreams of escape .. of flight. Who is deserving of something far better than the hand he was dealt.

  2. Rob, this breaks my heart as I think of all the children roaming the streets throughout the world. Trying to find shelter in the arms of dreams, instead of the cruelty of the streets they call home. Deep and dark, may light find a way.

    1. And these innocents are abandoned all over the world. It is heartbreaking and infuriating. I was abandoned in a less cruel way, given to an orphanage at birth. Anti abortion laws do not protect children. A child that is wanted by the parent, will not be aborted. A child, forced into the world, the result of self righteous anti abortion laws, gets thrown into the “great lottery“ of life, with no guarantee what their fate may be.

  3. We like to think there’s a safety net for every one in our world but especially for children. But there’s not. I like the way you end on a challenge to “see this child” with her dreams. Beautifully written, Rob.

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