Young Child

The sun beats down on the scorched land struggling plants withered without any water two tracks of dirt dusty and hard coming from nowhere and continuing on a lone child cries without their mother tears dry so fast on the dirty cheeks someone who you might call human left them here to die in the desert silver was paid a dream to buy a nightmare though was delivered the young child cries alone in the desert and I watch sitting in comfort just turn away just change the channel but I still see