THE RES

Broken.

Void.

Empty:

of attention

of love

of care.

Set aside by our country,

our government,

Forgotten about,

not cared about.

Seen only is the alcohol, the abuse, the brokeness,

and not given a second thought of hope.

Why so desolate?

You take away their culture,

their ways,

their lifestyle.

Press your ways on them

Foreign.

Unhealthy.

Unwanted.

DESTROYING their souls,

their families,

their humanity...

...humans.

Broken humans,

now generations deep in the syndrome.

'How do I cope?

How do I deal,

How do I heal?

The bottle.

Numbing the reality I've come to hate,

the reality I call my life,

the life I cannot escape.'

Houses from the third world,

toys littered,

cars burned,

windows boarded.

She has no yard, so she plays in muddy street puddles.

His family is living in a tent because their is no roof over their head.

Nine years old and the colours of his gang are his outward identity.

Her face so twisted from her mother's poor decisions during pregnancy,

lisped speech

snotty nose

and all she wants to do is twirl, twirl, twirl.

LOVE.

hope to trust, and

trust to hope.

Beauty in the broken,

Flourishing in love.

And when she smiles at me, everything is worth it.

Hungry bellies; no food in the cupboards.

Hurt hearts; no one to accept them.

Permanently angry; only rejection.

JESUS CHRIST,

Hope. Healer.

Restorer. Rebuilder.

Lavishing love,

Joy giver,

Burden carrier.

Takes surrender,

and turns it into pure life.