“cries”

i hear cries
the cries of children
i cannot see them but i know
those hefty tears are there to stay
frozen in mid-air, frozen in helplessness
in hopelessness and in utter fiery despair
for we grown ups have chosen to be quiet
yet once again, numb, deaf and delusional

so delusional that we wake up

every single day

to the comfort and convenience

of our petty lives

lives so petty that we insist

to insist on and on

not to care, not to think,

not to sense, not to feel

all along dismissing

what stirs up deep inside

our consciousness,

our gut instincts,

our compassion,

our original purpose: to love,

to love them all

“why?” asks one of those icons of innocence
“what have I done to deserve this fate?”

not in words, as not all know

how to speak yet

their eyes say it all,

eyes filled with salty drops

instead of tummy-giggles,
instead of daily, nightly jumps of joy,
instead of cushioned care-free slumbers,
instead of the tender safety

of love’s embrace

“why?”
why are there so many cries?

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, May 30, 2019