The Child the World Passed By

I saw her fragile frame first thing

Inside concrete walls built high

With hundreds of neglected hands, lifted up to mine.

Some saying 'mommy', some falling silent

All of them hoping that I had come to save them.

Cutting sharp through quite chaos

Her strained eyes caught hold of mine.

The Child the world passed by.

And every time I come to visit

Her little arm predictably wraps tightly 'round
and her face gets tucked away
Inside my skin she tries to hide her pain.
And we walk, no longer separate but now together
Me, kissing hundreds of little dirt smudged fore-heads
Brushing away dark strands from all of their brown eyes
Listening to each ones story, Smiling when they smile.

All the while being clung to
By the Child the world passed by.

To me she never speaks a word
But then she never has to.
Her eyes alone tell of a lonely world,
  a broken home,
  a hurt I've never known.

A dream she no longer dares to dream

At twelve years old, she knows her fate.

Simply because the world never stops,
while she waits.

And she knows what happens next
And she knows how her story will end,
  and so do I.

And I wish that I could slow the earth.

And change the way that this world spins.

And ask of us to not walk by, to not move on another step in our lives

Until we stop and look in her eyes

And tell her Why.

Why, she's the Child the world passed by.

~amanda elaine