To the Boy With His Hands Up

I can see you but you cannot see me, you cannot hear me, or feel me but I see you with your hands up tears in your eyes and a shake in your step...but you are not alone. The guns pointed at your head, you cant see those either but I'm sure you can feel them, like a rock pushing down on you. Fight! That's all I can say because the fight I see is one that I know you can get through. The people you see will have guns, uniforms and a glare on their faces, but look closely deep inside their eyes into their souls is fear and guilt. A fear just like yours...you are not alone. The life you have always known will be a figment of your imagination, the family and friends you knew will be swept away into a fiery pit. But just like you, there are others standing with their hands up, you are not alone. When you are bloody, battered, and bruised lying on the cold floor, when your stomach growls begging for food, when you slowly watch the ones you love wither away into the wind and the creatures called humans stare down at you as if you where nothing but a dirty vermin, remember this; you are not alone. The soldiers will look like a slippery serpent straight from hell, with slit eyes, and forked tounges, and when you are taking your last breath and all seems lost. Breath again and say, "I am not alone."