Young child



The sun beats down

     on the scorched land

struggling plants withered

     without any water


two tracks of dirt

     dusty and hard

coming from nowhere

     and continuing on


a lone child cries

     without their mother

tears dry so fast

     on the dirty cheeks


someone who

     you might call human

left them here

     to die in the desert


silver was paid

     a dream to buy

a nightmare though

     was delivered


the young child cries

     alone in the desert

and I watch

     sitting in comfort


just turn away

     just change the channel

but I still see

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