"How hard could it be?"

I.

 

Dear Tesfaye,

I wish you didn’t have to grow up like this.

I wish there was more I could do to help.

You are only four,

still too young to fully understand.

Poverty

is the only life you have known and

although you are across the Atlantic,

your future lies with me.

But you must know you are worth more

than the thirty-three dollars a month

that I give

to an organization that promises

to care for you.

No child should grow up without

nutritious food, clean water, a safe environment, and an

education.

It almost seems as though

wanting to end world hunger is a cliché.

People smile, applaud the compassionate heart,

and say, “Maybe it will happen one day.”

But your problems are real

and too many innocents relate.

It’s about time we sacrifice to help provide.

 

II.

 

Dear Shelter Animals,

I’m sorry.

It’s not your fault

that your owners

didn’t give you the

time,

love,

and training

that you needed.

Its not your fault you grew

much bigger than the puppy in a Christmas box

that you once were.

I know your momma

wishes she could have given you better

than a life raised on the street.

All have different beginnings,

but same outcome;

where am I supposed to start from?

I wish I could save all of you,

take you somewhere safe and sound,

go down the line of stainless steel jails,

unlocking

every one.

I promise I have enough love to go around.

 

III.

 

Dear Wilber, Elsie, and Dolly,

Who decided you should have to live in bubolic hell?

Your fate is determined

before you are born.

You have no choice,

no voice in the decisions made

about your lives’ quality,

but the fictions

are more pleasing

than reality.

You less famous friends are

claustrophobic,

bored, and depressed.

Any malnourishment or unhealth

is concealed with a diet

of steroid and antibiotic,

at least,

until your painful death.

How can I free you from this prison?

I’ll make it my mission

to tell your true stories,

to help others see

that you are no different,

that you too can feel joy, love, and pain,

that the taste of your flesh does not make you inferior,

that you are forced to sacrifice everything

to satisfy

unthinking hungers.

One day, this equality war will be won.

 

IIII.

 

Dear Mother Earth,

What have we done?

You give us your beauty,

your nutrients, hydration, raw materials, and

inspiration, your soil a culture medium

for freakish experiments.

Yet here we are

destroying what nourishes us.

Now the air is tainted

with the same toxins

that are spilling into your oceans

and composing the plastics we create

that will continue to pollute, poison,

and kill long after all of us

have come and gone.

I wish I could heal

the wounds of destroyed habitats, rehabilitate

your injured dependents,

restore

your balance,

And learn how to coexist.

But how does one girl

Change the entire world?

 

V.

 

Dear self,

I know you want to save everything.

You have a big heart

with so much space to

embrace suffering

with your overflowing love.

There are many letters you could write

to all of those you

want to help,

telling them that you understand their pain

and are doing everything you can.

You think to yourself:

“How hard could it be?”

to spread messages of

acceptance, equality, and kindness.

“How hard could it be to change the world?”

But love,

you cannot save it today.

nor tomorrow, nor even next year.

Maybe you will never change the world.

But the whispers of doubt

telling you that you aren’t doing enough…

They are lying.

You are doing exactly what you should be

at exactly the right time.

You may not be able to end world hunger,

or save every animal,

or heal the earth (to name a few),

but you can spend a part of every day

trying.

You will always think there is more you can do.

But don’t get discouraged;

you are going to achieve

more than you know.

 

Love,

A girl with dreams so big

They sometimes make her feel so small

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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