inhumanity africa's orphans

hollow eyes,
empty dreams,
glazed with hunger's icing.

as channel surfers skip your glance,
fearing you might raise them
from cushioned comfort,
zones without such pastries
made of sorrow.

ignorance steers sideways,
easier then embracing
humanity's burden,
oceans name you
"Not Our Neighbor."

your mothers lay there dying,
your children crying in discomfort,
empty bellies mean so little
when disease famines a child's heart.
you bury those who nurture
in shallow graves where
mercy sings no lullabys.

tyrants killed their millions,
dictating who lived,
who died,
before we thought about a need
to act upon such terror.

how long must we sit
in complacency's plush leather,
worshipping our judgement,
calling it God's wrath.

twelve million orphans
not our worry,
twenty-five million already faced
the vapors of a newer madness,
while we sit in leisure
having our ears tickled
with the feathers
of our own reality.

somewhere from the fires,
the tyrants call out to their
brothers and sisters of inhumanity,
smile bleakly,
as we justify our rights.