Tuesday, March 16

twisted youth

Pigtails and backpacks
The rambunctious swarm
Black tights and hairspray
Somehow you're left out today

The velocity of growth
Hasn't yet finished it's work
The stunning looks hit your eyes
But you're still just a child

In your hoodie, your lavender backpack
Trying desperately to twist the joy of youth
Into something you're not sure of... how does this work exactly?
"Please, do you have any change?"


And where is the man that was holding that sign yesterday?
Is there an empty seat in a classroom somewhere today?
What horrors come to coerce you into this post?

If only the change could be
Never holding that foul sign again
Never pausing on corners, but to laugh
Arms slung over the shoulders of friends


____

Please go look at these pictures that tell a small part of the story of the Roma Gypsies.

4 comments:

  1. I have never been to Italy. But I know that the Gypsies suffer as bad or worse discrimination in Europe as Blacks and Native Americans here. I was once in Hungary and Slovakia, and was shocked at seeing such gentle people suddenly turn into horrible, near violent people just talking about Gypsies. What does this to people? Why is there this core of evil in human beings?

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  2. It's one of those social tragedies. While it feels heartless to turn away from the face of a child begging, I know that giving money only perpetuates a faulty social system. At the same time, fingerprinting and bulldozing communities doesn't help either. These abused communities need voices and advocates, opportunities... but they are often only seen as thieves. How to open up the hearts of the "victim" to change the system that created thieves?

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  3. I remember when I was in Europe and that's the only thing I ever heard about them, they are all thieves and not to trust them.

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  4. The Gypsy life is appealing to one side of me ! Its sad to get reminded that there is one more form of discrimination thats on in the world that i am not comfortable with !

    Why cant we all let each other be ?

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...and you may ask yourself, well...how did I get here?