Holden

You're 15; you're 16, I'm not sure. I remember your lazy-eyed gleam when we found each other at the store.

I had feared the day, you all know which one. Maybe that's too much to say; too many fail to see them as human.

A word we invented to give ourselves more credit than we ever deserved. Just emotional servants that we know, and still have the law allowing us to control.

Taking orphans, giving them names. Fueling our endorphins to invoke a reason to complain.

I was sick, drugged, curb kicked, and unloved.

But, when you looked at me; I knew in that moment, it was my responsibility to give you the love they had stolen.

I can't cope with my abandonment, but you've had no choice. A prisoner of our arrogance, with no recognizable voice.

You deserve more, something needs to be done. Congress worried about taxes offshore and the percentage of one.

But I admire the ones that try, that see what they have and fight. Give them an admirable life, even if we've dictated their rights.