You hear their stories from around the world
You see their pictures everywhere you go and turn
You see the tears they cried every night before they go to bed
They are too young to face unspoken crimes: losing a mother to AIDS, a father of to war, brothers and sisters die of hunger
The world they live in is not a world of rainbows and butterflies but a world of pain and weakness where they are taught to kill the ones they love or be killed
They try to escape walking miles and miles carrying their belonging into a place where millions of children fill the room with unheard cries and prayers for disease and sickness
They try to start a new life, they fall asleep and dream of a world where someone can hold them through the stormy night and say the three simplest words, I love you. Who are they, the children of poverty?
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