tiny spectres, bruised and lost,

bear silent witness to the indifference

of our self absorption

Little phantoms who see

those who suffer as they did..

Hear the screams and cries of the helpless,

battered babies no one sees.

Too late, too late someone tries to help.

Broken children who cannot be mended

wrapped in white sheets,

stained with blood,

are carried under the strobing lights of

merciless reality.

Too late we cry,

Vowing never again.. yet

Still they die..alone.

The little phantoms that haunt our lives

Victims of our selfish indifference.