Ill Children, Cold World

Laying there on that hospital bed, I don't see happiness, I see sickness instead. I see their once happy faces filled with pain, Such pain that they can hardly say their name. Their bodies are broken down, Yet the illness fails their spirit drown. Their strength surpasses their illness, They choose to show themselves as painless. Their families hope for a miracle from the heavens, They no longer yell in anger, their voice now softens. The world only looks through a window, They do nothing, they don't suffer the sorrow. All that is taught in school and church is forgotten, The only help comes from a monetary bargain. The world shows its true cold face, The teachings of love it fails to embrace. Business is made out of the illness and pain of others, Everyone is on their own, we were never brothers. The world is a cold place for ill children, Their world the sun seldomly brightens. Yet their calls for help are ignored, Many die, their medicines they could not afford.