Cried

I sit and think about the things that we don't dare to think of every day.
I think about the children crying in the night,
Listening to their parents screaming, for their marriage they will fight.
I think about the people in the desert, with nothing but sand and a tent,
And although this occurence is happening, no one will give out a cent.
I think about the fat kid, in the corner of the disco,
Not one girl will take his hand, or even give him a real go.
I think about the little girl who gets sexually assualted by her own brother,
But no one is there to care for her or help her, not even her own mother.
I think about the wounded and the facilities they lack,
The rich get what they need, and they push the poor to the back.
I think about the teenagers who think life has nothing they need,
So they pull out a knife, and cut their wrists to make themselves bleed.
I think about the unfortunate countries and they leaders who bury them in the ground,
And the way these leaders think they own everything, they want to make the world go round.
I think about the doctors who invent cures for the sick and dieing,
The way they put a smile on a persons face, and resist them from crying.
I think about the young girl, who fades into her course,
And the man who falls on his back and fails to get back on his horse.
I think about the ones, who cannot see, the ones who cannot hear,
The ones who cannot walk, the ones who are incapable to fear.
I think about the people who lye alone in their beds,
The ones who have nothing by lonliness running through their heads.
I think about the children, who belong to no family name,
The ones who are alone in life, the ones who are not tame.
I think about all this, and I start crying,
Because with each moment of it's existence, I am dieing.