Tears of children not my own strike fires in the pit of my soul.
From it rises a passion to help, to heal, to hope.
Tears of children not my own strike fires in my bones.
From it comes a grief no words can fully describe.
A generation sacrificed to their parent's vice(s).
Only my God knows the depth of their pain.
Hearts broken from birth...
Only my God knows.
Who will sacrifice for children not flesh of their flesh?
It was His reason to die,
It was His reason to live.
I understand...
even if it's just a taste...
I understand.
copyright Alison L. Hunt
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