Oh, how blessed we are.
Oh how blessed I am.
I was born in the United States, and grew up in Southern California.
I went to preschool, I have my health, I have a family.
My family had it's own problems, abuse and divorce.
But Oh, how blessed I am.
I read articles watch screens and the things I see are sickening.
It's hard to wrap your mind around concepts of wich you are blind.
I see a child with a gun in his hand, and I think...
Oh, how blessed I am.
I had a home to call my own, and a mother to protect me.
I had protection from diseases, vaccines, and medical care.
He had no home and despair.
He was told he owed his life to a machine, killing others.
He was brought up in absolute hate, had no chance to break free.
Stamped with a sentence: DEATH.
Age nine he's seen more than my grandfather.
Oh, how blessed I am.
To have food on my table, to have no bullets flying over, to have no war in my home.
I watch the news, see the world and it almost seems unreal.
Backyards turned into graveyards.
Begging for food, education, shelter.
Begging for their life.
Yeah, compared to my peers I've had to struggle.
But Oh, how blessed I am.
I think about my future, because I can see one, I don't stop to worry,
if there is going to be one...
I am rich. I am blessed. I live in absolute luxury.
I ask my mom why things like that go on,
Why does God put others there, and me here, nice and warm?
She says we all have a plan and that sometimes evil takes root,
that others are luckier because the hate decided to stay father away.
I don't dismiss that all problems are problems.
I don't dismiss that all struggles are valid.
I instead choose to dismiss my attitude, to be greatful.
Because I am blessed.
Oh, how blessed I am.
I can't understand still,
how these things go on.
How do you send a child of to war?
It is overwhelming how much tragedy is in the world.
I got caught up in my life and forget that while I'm in my bed reading
there are others...
Grieving.
Hungry.
Fighting.
Dying.
Killing.
Bombing.
Running..
running for their lives
Tonight I decided, that when I go to sleep tonight,
I won't just pray for my family and I, but for the others.
For those who were not as blessed as I.
Who weren't born US citizens, with public education, and medical care.
Who don't have mothers, or a family, who care.
I was born into so much.
Oh, how blessed I am.
This poem is about:
Our world