Saturday, July 31, 2010

A child without a family, place to live or sleep, roams. He or she does not stop for long, for the body's needs constantly beckon. The freedom of having nothing to do is fully tempered by the fear of endless survival. To be able to stop, sit, relax, is paradise. On those rare occasions, the spark of hope is born. Injustice is found everywhere, as people and things surround the empty human vessel, who is skilled now yet wholly unworldly in their eyes. Their heart is closed, it cannot be touched after breaking so many times.

Yet, in time, there is found to be a presence that exists, always. A person learns the patterns, the patterns give way to growth. A child is forged by their cage.

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