Tears For Angels

A little girl cried out
First for friendship, attention
Then in shame, begging for help
Understanding, forgiveness.
She was greeted
With derision and scorn,
Humiliation and laughter.
Did you see it?
I did.
Too late.

Another brave child,
Across the world
Dares to look for a better life.
Asks for peace and love
And learning.
Speaking out against violent oppressors.
So much stronger than her years.
Lies in a hospital bed
Shot.
For opening her mouth.
Did you hear?
I did.
I pray for her survival
And safety.

A baby,
Not even three
Beaten,
Then glued to a wall
For failing to understand
And follow rules.
She was
Too young to comprehend.
Maimed, disfigured
By the person sworn
To love and protect her.
Did you feel it?
I did.
Anguish.

My heart bleeds
For these precious gifts,
These angels,
Tossed away
Like rubbish.
It’s so tempting to wonder
Where is God?
Then I know…
He’s in the hearts
Of you and me
When we feel
And cry
And grieve…
Wishing we could do more.
It’s time to break silence
To heal hearts.
To love.
Boldly.
Regardless of consequences.
Our words and actions
The gifts he gives
To honor
Damaged hearts and souls.
Speak out!

These last couple of weeks have just been heart rending. On the news, on the internet…stories of yet one more innocent child lost or damaged Like I read on Nick’s Blog and Patricia Sands’ Blog along with so many others. Then I discovered Justine Musk and her blog touting the importance of following our dreams. Overall I felt pretty good, because that’s what I’ve been doing the last few months. I’ve been following my dreams. Writing. I haven’t shared my project with you guys yet because it’s not done yet. In the meantime, I share my writing with you guys through my poetry and work on sharpening my tools and my mind through my blog.

It was actually through the discovery of Justine’s blog that drew me to this time, this blog. I’d recently started following Marcia Richards’ blog after I’d discovered her through our Letter game blogs. In her blog she asked about what we were like at 14. Looking back I remembered I dreamed of being a neurosurgeon (this dream died a rapid death when I got to biology class and became bored 20 minutes into our frog dissection…don’t think that would translate well in brain surgery). I was a tomboy who still played tackle football with the boys in the neighborhood…and a die hard flirt. In fact, I’d been voted class flirt 3 years straight and was also voted most likely to be president. Back then I was madly in love with poetry….and a different guy every other week, LOL! But the thing was, all someone had to do was give me a subject or tell me how they were feeling and I was able to convert it into poetry. Like I said, boys came and went, but not my love for writing and poetry. That’s been an abiding love.

So when Marcia challenged me that with the right words, in the right venue, I could make a difference I thought about those words. I slept on them…and woke up in tears because I knew what I had to say, but didn’t know if I’d have words strong enough to take on this task. All I could do was try. I already had a song that filled my head last night. I knew what I needed to write about. It was practically slapping me in the face!

There is so much hurt in the world right now. So many people mistreated. Not accepted. Maybe it’s for the color of their skin. Their beliefs. Their sexual orientation. Past mistakes. Or maybe they’ve done nothing at all. I’m not a preachy person. But how could I not talk about love and not bring up God. Seriously. As I thought about this, I just pictured him looking down on this once perfect world he created and crying. I pictured those poor girls and prayed that he had angels standing on both sides of them, with their wings stretched out…shielding them, protecting them from any more pain or hurt or anguish. I felt like the message he was sending to me was a plea for love and forgiveness and acceptance…and for these poor children to know that they are not alone. We hurt for them. We accept them. We feel their pain and grief and despair. For the one little girl who is gone (along with many more who have not gotten the media coverage that she has)…they are not forgotten.

What about you? What do you believe? What’s been pressing on your heart? As one of my favorite romance authors, Julie Garwood, wrote in her book The Secret “One whisper, added to a thousand others, becomes a roar of discontent”. You can be the difference you want to see in this world. Are you up to the challenge? Tell me what you think!

I’ll leave you with that thought and this song:

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23 thoughts on “Tears For Angels

  1. Marcia Richards says:

    Gorgeous poem, Kitt! You’ve expressed our feelings perfectly and it also serves as a call to action, as does the quote “One whisper, added to a thousand others, becomes a roar of discontent”. I was right about you–you can make a difference with your voice and determination.

  2. lenwilliamscarver says:

    Your poem pulls, rents , wrenches my heart and spirit, as an ex LSW with Children Family Services, I’ve seen my share but what is happening in our world today, well the heartache is just more than this old woman can bare. Thank you forbringing an another awareness to the forefront.

    • Kitt Crescendo says:

      Thanks for taking the time to read. Some things weigh heavy and need to be brought out to the forefront. It’s not nearly enough, but maybe…just maybe…if enough people care to listen, to speak out, to interject when it’s not the “comfortable” thing to do…we can begin to make a difference. As has been told me so often…”be the change you want to see in this world.”

      • lenwilliamscarver says:

        Very true I told my girls that as women they didn’t have to be shackled by the chain, they could be the weak link to break from the other links and make a change to what they didn’t like or see.your poem is in the same vein. Very proud of the fact that you spoke out, as you said “maybe…just maybe….

  3. sheridegrom - From the literary and legislative trenches. says:

    Advocacy for those bound by the hatred of others comes in many forms. Some convey the wrongs by words as you’ve so eloquently protrayed. Some by music as ‘Help The Outcasts’ reminds us. And others walk into the firey hell on earth to help those that cannot help themselves. I cannot believe this is what God intended when he created the heavens and earth.

    • Kitt Crescendo says:

      I doubt it, too, Sheri. But I also think God created man to have the power to overcome things and to change them. Taking the bite out of that apple sure did cost…unfortunately sometimes the ones paying the price are the innocents. All we can do is strive to be the change we want to see in the world, right?

    • Kitt Crescendo says:

      Go right ahead! Let me know what he thinks. It’s not my usual stuff…but this one just tore at my heart. If he could find a way to set it to music I think the world would be blown away…and if not… I’m still glad someone else got to see it.

  4. Dace says:

    Beautifully written. Very heartfelt post. It hurts to talk about your own feelings, anger, fear and how helpless you feel when you read about somebody else hurting.
    Thank you!

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