More Than Tears: Dedicated to Two Little Girls

Last night, I saw two little girls

Cling to one another as their

So-called "caretaker" loomed over them.

A loathsome patriarch of some sort,

This man exuded every despicable

Characteristic conceivable in humanity.

The girls cringed when he spoke,

And I saw the older cling to the younger,

Holding on to one another as he derided them.

I wanted to help you, sweet girls,

Your faces worn--not warm--

Your bodies frail under layers of clothing.

My heart bleeds for you, darling girls;

The world would write you off--you,

Statistically, have barely a chance without...

A miracle.  That's what I pray for you,

Both of you.  Nothing short of a miracle,

I pray you are spared from this fate worse than death.

Worse than death:  Your small bodies,

Invaded by adult force--now empty shells of you.  

Your precious minds seared by hell's flames.

Worse than death:  Your deflated spirits--

Before anyone should ever have lost hope;

You are children shipwrecked by a dim reality.

I heard you say that you were twelve,

Your sister, cowering with a speech impediment,

Couldn't have been past six, could she?

Oh, how I longed to speak to you--

But you didn't need to hear from me:

You needed someone to redeem you.

There I stood with my two girls,

Very blessed girls, very lovely girls,

And I wept for you, silently, wept.

I declare now, to you, to the heavens,

That I want to do more than just shed tears--

I am begging God to show me how to help you.

And how many more of you are there?

Two little girls have changed my world--

And how many more of you are there?