The beauty of Life and Lives – Stolen away in a moment, never to return.
This is a poem I wrote whilst I watched, listened to the people on the streets and remembered things of the past. Peace begins at home and it is responsibility as individuals to create peace, find love and prevent wars and crimes in all it’s shapes and forms.
2012 by Natasha Parker
Robbed of Life
In our every day World, crime, violence and robbery have become part of our lives. Like a label covering our eyes, our hearts, our minds.
Small inhuman acts are hidden, jeered at or not taken seriously. Some escalating to even larger crimes. Not a thought or a word or action is enough.
Something so simple as a child searching to satisfy his hunger for food or a coloured pencil which belongs to another.
Words of abuse as a mother screams at her child and drags the insecure poor child down the road to school.
The child who is violently abused through abusive language and acts from his fellow friends. Be it his colour, his religion, his hair, his body or his frightened smile.
A family who is left to starve as they are abandoned by their father. As his search for selfless acts of sex and pleasure behind the bottom of the bottle.
Violence of honor and robbery of self dignity as, women, children and men are stripped naked. Some left lying in pools of blood too defenseless to reach out for help.
The robbery of times of pleasure as each soul becomes the competition, the attacker, the hunter.
The crime of living a life of gluttony and greed. Where power and money are more important than a simple act of kindness.
Crippled, disfigured and distorted are their bodies, their minds, their hearts, and their souls. Robbed of life as they die from an incurable illness.
Crimes of passion as a life is stolen from the stab wounds and gunshots.
Robbed of a childhood and forced to the fields, the factory or the street corner to beg.
Robbed of the moment to enjoy the silence of the moment. The sunshine, the soft gentle breeze, the whispering of the trees and the smell of the flowers.
A world of deceit, of lies. Surrounded by anger, jealousy and envy. Robbed by a friend, a family member or a partner.
Robbed of the essence of life – of hope, of joy, of happiness, as he lies on his death bed and takes his last breath as the machine is switched off and the tubes all removed.
Robbed of a decent job to support his family as he stands on the corner handing out brochures.
Robbed of an education to attend to his brothers and sisters.
Robbed of assistance as he lies on the road. Not able to get up.
Robbed of his clothes as he wanders aimlessly the streets with his bare toes.
Robbed of his sight as he sits waiting for his cup to be filled.
Robbed of his home as he lies crumpled and surrounded by the daily news for warmth and comfort.
Robbed of his senses as he is strapped to the bed and tapped at the mouth.
Robbed of his freedom of speech as they listen to the call. As his emails are hacked, as his privacy is taken away.
Gone are the memories of robberies, of crimes and violence in our lives. Hidden in the cupboard, concealed in an envelope and behind the closed door.
By Natasha Parker