All These Children Are Mine

Kiara Shanay Lee

When I hear a child cry 

My stomach drops

It plunges

For miles and miles

It doesn’t matter if the child is America’s or

Sudan’s or

Mexico’s or 

Iran’s 

Or somebody else’s

When the children sing their song 

I can’t help but to sing along

Broken lullabies of broken times

And war and exploitation and 

Destitution 

Not by choice but by design

At the hands of somebody

Somebody else

Lord help

All these children are mine and 

My child is each and every one

But the saddest tragedy of it all is

Not their cry

The saddest tragedy of it all is

The way the others turn a blind eye

The way they go on with life and

Try to make these wrongs right

Complicit in the death and the dying of 

Morality

It’s a new day

But children are still crying

And as humanity descends 

We find ourselves farther and farther from the light

Only God knows what darkness the children see at night

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Whether you’re a writer, a painter, an actress, or if you don’t consider any fancy titles for yourself – you are a creative. No matter who you are, to some degree, we all create and we all need space to take care of every part of ourselves. I hope The House of Psalm Magazine inspires you to take good care.

Dr. Kiara Shanay Lee | Editor in Chief, The House of Psalm Magazine

IG: @thehouseofpsalm @kiaraleewrites | kiara@thehouseofpsalm.com

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