I cling to hope like a newborn baby clings to his mother. We were all new once. There was a time in all of our lives when we didn't know that hundreds of little girls in Africa are missing. We didn't know what a bruise was much less how they got around our loved ones necks. There was a time when color was only a figment of the mind. A time when words didn't cut like glass. Our planet is crying for help. The world is 71% water but our people are thirsty. We punish our children when they use violence as the answer but have no problem sending their daddies to war. We tell grieving teenagers that they don't know what love is, but at what point do they make that transition? We blame those that go hungry on their lack of job, but make it impossible to afford the skills to get one. There is a problem. When money can rip families to shreds. When the remains of their love is scattered on the side walk, while a stack of paper grins at its control. When boys grow up in the light of a struggling single mom yet let their daughters grow up the same way. When religion is no longer about love or acceptance. When sexuality will **** you to hell, but ****** will receive forgiveness if asked. He had a dream, that our white brothers and our black brothers would come together as equal brothers. I have a dream that women will receive the same treatment as white men, and that black men will receive the same treatment as women and color will only matter when celebrating our cultures. I have a dream, that the world will no longer be thirsty.
