I am here on this side, where
Children are born, they shine like bliss
They are guarded like vaults of gold
Fed like tiger puppies, balmy lips, bright eyes
They are untouchable, children of God.

On this side, they are never hungry
Never cold nor hot, their feet grace if grandeur
Their bodies’ never naked if they don’t choose to
Their clothes patch-less and branded
They are the children born of the light.

Just to look at them, their skin tells
Of a world without a speckle
Their tummies bulge with surfeit
Still their trash cans fill up
Monday to Sunday, of food uneaten.

On this side, they buy whole,
When they need a quarter
They worry about obesity not starvation
They spend to starve their bodies
They are the children of a greater God.

I come from that other side
Where it is a privilege to be born
Let alone to grow up and dream
Ain’t no big deal to go hungry?
With no shoes, pants patched ten times over.

On that side they die daily
Babies, toddlers, little boys and girls
There is no escape, eternal sorrow
The creatures of a lesser god
They are born to run, to struggle.

They run, everyday, to school
Barefoot, bare buttocks, ashy lips.
They dream of getting out
Out of this bare naked lively hood.
These children- forgotten, forsaken.

On my side, that dark side
Little girls, baby girls, virgin girls, raped
By adult men, their fathers, their protectors
Their innocence ripped apart
Their innocence infected by dying men.

They wail these babies, human babies
To deaf ears, defeated hearts
Mothers enslaved in a man’s world
Humble women, dutiful wives of Africa
Subservient, mired in a labor of love.

On the streets they roam, on that side
They flood the cities, children of the streets
Outstretched hands, begging, nagging
Ostracized, cursed, minds and hearts paralyzed
They live in their own world.