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.
©2003 Molly Nicole
Part of this Love
When we are living in our most precious hours,
those that we want to remember,
love is part of the essence of that,
it is found in the middle of it,
and it is in those qualities that they continue to stay there,
it exists in the creative,
in children,
in animals,
and in the qualities of people,
it can be present, even when there is nothing said,
even when I can't explain,
I believe,
at some moments we could understand,
when empathy reflects off each other,
it is when the world starts to heal again,
and it is the first step towards it.
©2003 Molly Nicole