Sunday: The Second Sunday

Children Day

We heard that we had killed a man

who was our sworn enemy

That he was buried at sea

after careful preparation according to his religion

As no country would take him;

So no country could make his body a shrine

We scream in joy/cringe in shame

that we killed our enemy

The contradictions of killing,

then ultimate respect for the dead

Tell us that we are sometimes human

Yes, we are sometimes human

Unless our enemy is a poor or dark skinned 12 year old

of our very own

Locked up in a children’s prison of our very own

Treated worse than enemies

who swear to kill us all

There is vastly more in the news and the forums

that we mistreat the mortal enemy

Than there is in the news and the forums

about our own children

This tells us that we are not fully human

We are in no way fully human

When our mortal enemy gets more care and respect

With burial at sea

and more glamorous ritual and care

Then our very own children

who are imprisoned, murdered, cremated and tossed

Like dust in the garbage

Like dust in the wind.

For the children.

The World’s children.

The children who are somewhow an easier

and more forgettable

and less reportable kill

Than killing evil men.

Over 2200 juveniles nationwide have been sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. Children as young as 13 years old have been tried as adults and sentenced to die in prison, typically without any consideration of their age or circumstances of the offense.

Street Children in the Phillipines

The American Kids For Cash Scandal

Burma’s Refugee Children

The Killing of Brazilian Street Children

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