Another one from 1989. I had seen a news story about the children of the Smoky Mountain in The Philippines. The smoky mountain was a trash heap and the smoke was from the occasional methane fire that would erupt in the decomposing trash. Small children would shift through the trash looking for anything that could be sold. Trinkets, silverware, other household items. Or food to eat. That was their sustenance.

…And Have Not

You, who don’t know the depth
Of your own deprivation
For you don’t know
What it is to have

Through the windows of life
Fear takes place of trust
Wisdom for wonderment
Pain for joy

Stolen before they were yours
By those sworn to give
The pleasure of life
The newness of growth

Picking out the treasures
From the debris of lives well lived
Walking away with little worth keeping
Or to stay forever, and search

Why are you doomed to the ashes
A fiery hell on earth
Nothing with which to reminisce
and much to miss

Our hearts break for you
We shed a tear
And turn our heads
Looking elsewhere for illumination

We glance back at you
From the other side of the mountain
And are caught by your eyes
Deep wells of unfulfillment

And in the them
We see the past
with no future