Best Socialcandy Poems
When parents don’t have a choice and vanish
We, the hunted children of the urban jungle,
Inhale distorted dreams on an empty stomach
Falling asleep with stars and nightmarish rats
There is oxygen enough for the entire planet
Surprise us, please, with lullabies not bullets
We are afraid to grow up - as Fairies do not touch -
Only men with cold fingers in their perverted lust
“Let the children come to me...” - Hope Mountain echoes-
Above the World’s Stadium let kids’ pinata splatter
With candy for the rich and candy for the poor
We all belong together residing in our Hope…
Copyright 2011
Iolanda Scripca
Written for an International Documentary film...Check it out at: www.caprioleproductions.org
The little filthy secret of the economically rich Brazil is the assasination of the
poor "children of the streets" in its capital. They are considered a nuissance to the
rich and their lives...these poor kids are called "Street Urchins" and are victims of
drugs, prostitution and violence.
Chocolate candy and popcorn. Propping up my feet. Waiting for the show to come
on.
The Mr. Pibb is sitting securely on my right and ready to drink. Oh, what a treat!
My head is tilted back and relaxed, with my legs crossed. Hugh Jackman is sexier
than the models of Elle.
My imagination runs wild, picturing him dancing in the barest of essentials,
performing like the speed of a flick of a ring toss.
The screen is huge and plenty of company is here. No one's alone.
Thank god everyone was respectful enough to turn off their cell phones.
A raffle was drawn. My ticket was put in. Not too many good prizes were offered.
Glad I didn't win. The entertainment was terriffic. The event was social.
One situation was irritating when an announcement of another winner was
announced in the middle of an interesting commercial.
The popcorn was very expensive. The Mr. Pibb tasted a whole lot better than the
hot tea.
However, my candy bars were absolutely nasty. The dry scalp and hair needs a
washin.
No fleas or roaches are around. No moms are flinchin. My shoes are black and sharp,
resembling Stacy Adams.
Not Dockers. I must say that I was impressed by attending the watch party. We all
enjoyed the Oscars.