The Other Children Poem by Chris Embrick

Refugees on the run never knowing peace
Fatherless, motherless, interrupted lives
In a world of chaos just trying to survive
They're in the heart of Africa
They're in the Middle East.

Sex slaves of evil men, worshiping the flesh
Hungry for a morsel, begging for a crumb
Sold for a time of pleasure or a pinch of opium
They're in the brothels of Cambodia
They're in the slums of Bangladesh.

Street corner ragamuffins from New York to LA
Runaways, orphans, and millions more neglected
Abandoned without love, alone and unprotected
They're in the shacks of Guatemala
They're all across the USA.

Pictures in a magazine, empty eyes pleading
Victims carrying life's blemishes and scars
They live and die around us; we don't know who they are
They're the other children we overlook
Who live so far from Eden.

Without God there's no compassion
Without God there's no real love
If we don't love our children
What's to become of us
We've told God we don't need Him now
After all we've come so far
But how we love our children
Shows us who we really are.