Some children,
Will never see a toy,
Never get to play,
Or feel a bit of joy.

Some children,
Have soldiers invade their home,
Their parents killed,
And are too soon on their own.

Some children,
Are always being bruised,
Neglected, mistreated,
And constantly abused.

These children,
Are born and raised in war,
Where freedom is a myth,
And life an open sore.


As I see the next generation being sacrificed by political greed and adult egotism, I realize that pessimism is same as realism.