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Blogs by K L McFarlane
The Children... Again... 9/12/2007 10:10:41 AM
Today I’m contemplating the plight of our children again especially the black children, as I listen to the parents talk. All of these parents were not neglectful and did everything in their power to prepare them as productive citizens of society... and I listen to what is not spoken. I listened to the souls of these children, one a Today I’m contemplating the plight of our children again especially the black children, as I listen to the parents talk. All of these parents were not neglectful and did everything in their power to prepare them as productive citizens of society... and I listen to what is not spoken. I listened to the souls of these children, one a young man of great promise, knew him personally… very friendly and affectionate, always had a smile growing up but he was not able to overcome the wounds of abandonment… he struggled with why did his birth mom give him up, but kept his younger siblings and the more he contemplated that, the more he changed… now he’s in prison… I listen to another young bright, elegantly regal woman… an "A" student graduated on the top of her class, very ambitious, was on the debate, dance, cheerleading team. One full of great potential and possibility… but this young woman was gang raped at a school event, now she's broken and struggles with depression that resulted in an anger and rage at society which resulted in trouble with the law. She has lost the focus and drive to excel as she struggles to understand why bad things happen to good people... and moreso why to her. I listen to another child filled with rejection, somehow she never felt loved, and it has produced in her “a mental condition”, that causes her to run away a lot… to society’s eyes she is an at risk trouble maker, but I hear her cry for understanding, for acceptance. Another young man… cried about the love of his father… wanted a father figure and it manifest in becoming involved with delinquent associations… not even the love of a mother could heal his particular wound… I hear his cry. In these cries, I was provoked to peer, through imaginations, in their souls; and I came up with this poem called “Plea.” I want to help them… like their parents, but at times their issues make them like a porcupine and you can’t hug them because of the prickles… that will wound you when you try. These parents are now truly learning to walk out the true definition of unconditional love... many fall on that road, at times tempted to throw away that child they love. In the poem, society was mentioned, but society has to protect itself and its other citizens from the manifestion of the wounds of these children soul. Now I'm left to ask, "what about the children?" So today, I contemplate.
