Not knowing where to go, not knowing where to turn,
no one to talk to, no one from which to learn.
The parents have problems of their own, so they cast their children aside.
The children go through life, with no one to teach them rules to abide.
So to fill that empty space, they turn to drugs or a gang on the street.
For without the gang, they feel their lives are obselete.
In the gangs they feel needed, the gang is their familly.
We are killing our children, can't you see?
A member tries to keep his brother out of the gang.
A car drives by...bang, bang, bang.
The older brother's body falls to the ground.
Then there is scilence, nothing, no sound.
Nothing but a young child's scream.
He wakes up sweating from a repetative dream.
He lies back down and puts his pillow over his head.,
He tries to calm himself with thoughts of what he had just read.
With that in mind the child went back to bed.
Not knowing that the next day his brother would be dead.
Why must they always live in fear?
Do their cries fall upon deaf ears?
I would hope not, I believe we could chhange our ways.
It will take time, not just days.
We could do it, if we gave of ourselves unto others.
Think of the children, think of the two brothers.
Our children are dying, it's not fare.
Do you want to save them, do you care?
Can you look within yourself, and still turn away a child,
forgetting what is most precious, like a young ones smile?
I hope the answer is "No.", for they need our affection.
They need our love, they need our protection.
If you want to heal this world, then together we must band.
So I say to the children, "Give me your hand."
Kris Prather