Oh little child, your hunger grows
for things outside your world of woes
gangs and morsels you feed upon
to gather strength and carry on.
Sirens bellow, flashing lights
weaken so the appetite
windows now your only shield
from who you are and what you feel.
Watching how the colored clothes
come together in violent pose
feeling it’s your only chance
you turn away and start to dance.
Pelvis thrusting, rapid feet
arms are flailing to the beat
letting go of all you fear
you dance until you disappear.
I wrote this many years ago when I taught in a low income early childhood center. My eyes opened. My heart squeezed.
Love the photo, too.
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Thanks, Judy. Have a great Sunday!
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