by Molly Smith

Created on: October 08, 2008   Last Updated: May 14, 2010

Vulnerable

In the doorway, he sits,

with his dark eyes and innocent face,

looking outside into the world he knows,

and in the distance,

he sees there is more to this,

more than what is here,

he dreams of life and joy,

but then, he is saddened,

by what has become,

the glow in his eyes has now been faded,

and still, hope manages to survive in his heart,

but continuous hunger has weakened his heart at the very same time,

he still waits,

inside it aches, even after all this time,

he remembers into the past,

how he'd pray for the pain to let him be,

and when night fell, in the lonely hours,

sometimes the tears he cried would show fear,

a fear at the thought of saying good-bye to his mother,

believing seven years couldn't be enough.

He sits in the doorway, now with a blank stare,

because he doesn't feel any better,

he has been dehydrated for some time,

and his bony hands covered in mud remind him of it.

There is a reason why he waits,

it's kept in his words and in his soul,

and yet, the child is dying from a reason I can't understand,

and along with it will go love,

replacing that, there will be a pain in my heart,

I love him.

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