Until we know what freedom is, think about the black little kids holding guns, too cold for their hips. Scared of them like how they do scare others when they point it to.
Until we know what hunger is, think about the skinny short kids. Hungry enough to forget the taste. Hungry enough to eat the waste.
Until we know what shelter is, think about those dirty brown kids. Begging for days so countless now, crying for help from somewhere somehow.
Until we know what the world is, think about the future kids. Crying for home and dying for food. Holding guns and walking fire barefoot.

How can we change it all? Before the world makes its fall. Where to start? And when to end?  Do you know what to do? Or what to say? Or do you stay back home and just kneel and pray?