Children Living in Poverty
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The Tiny Kitchen Maid
By Kaelynn Calac
She be nimble, she be small
Her smile bright, complection dull
With eyes of ice and hair of straw
That Tiny Kitchen Maid
She works all day, spares her play
Should I be more conscious
of the rough brick pressing up
against my back?
Is my insignificance rooted
solely in the pavement of
downtown Corvallis?
Warm hello's can't pierce such
Natural disasters are spiking like a bed of nails
Dead bodies dangle from the ceiling, falling from seasons like snowflakes
No stories are the same
Spread your wings, warrior
You and I originate from the same place
Seen the hungry and the poor
Close to touching death's face
I remember as if it was yesterday
Young with bombs ready to explode
Non stop laughter and play
Sticky fingers and fraction build
twinkle toes and good God's grace
can help to save a poor boy's family;
Must I even present the poor boy's case?
A cry arises from across the sea
Begging for mercy,
longing for peace.
A face, without a name.
Just a child
searching for love,
yet drowning in a sea of evil,
gasping for air
