In+the+Schoolyard

In the school yard, where children play joyfully, some of them hide from the bully outside, fearfully. But then they are found and beaten to the ground, violently. And the teachers see not as they have forgotten how hot the Sun glares on an injured soul.

And injured souls no longer cry, for they no longer hope to be heard. And they do not brace themselves, for they do not believe that they can withstand the impact. They have vanished into apathy. for the sandpaper of hate has brushed them by too many times.

But in the school yard, a young boy, who prays with his face lifted to the Son, joyfully, will bring back hope, and tend to the wounds that enslave my soul.