A young boy wrote me, and asked me to write a poem
about his life in Chicago. He explained to me what he
witnessed, saw, and lived . . . this is for all the children
who live through out this world in their daily nightmare.
Another senseless tragedy,
has hit Chicago’s South Side
another young victim’s life
has once more, been denied.
It could’ve been my brother,
my sister or my best friend
and every night I pray . . .
“Dear Lord, when will this end”
I’m only thirteen-years old,
but, I am always on the run
I never know when someone
is gonna point at me a gun.
Most kids who are my age,
don’t expect to live a full life
and getting shot to death
is a part of our daily strife.
Streets in my neighborhood,
aren’t safe for any one . . .
it doesn’t matter your age
or if you’re a daughter or a son.
I don’t know what to do,
but I am praying that you can
“Stop all this gang violence”
so I can grow up to be a man.
Another funeral at the church,
a “Homecoming” some people say
another parent’s grief-filled tears
God will have to wipe away!
King James Version
“Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord:
and the fruit of the womb is his reward.
As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man;
so are children of the youth. Happy is the man
that hath his quiver full of them:
they shall not be ashamed,
but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.”
Deborah Ann Belka