Children are playing in their school uniforms
Running, jumping, swinging a child's norms,
Sympathetically you can't tell the poor child from the rich
Because, they are equal, no one knows which is which.
They all wear the same styled pants and the same colored skirts
The same designed blouses and the same printed shirts,
Unto the passerby the children are all alike
From social standards alone, they don't judge or strike.
They don't mock each other for the clothes that's worn
Because they all wear the same outfit, even if it is tattered and torn,
We see them in their uniforms as God sees our own souls
We are all equal, except for different dreams and goals.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem