Eyes
A dimly lit room, about 18 girls sitting in a circle The unflinching eyes of the doctor; dark, hardened, holding a chart, mindlessly writing gibberish No one was older than 18 Black, white, tan; fat, skinny, chubby; short, tall, in the middle; they all had something missing in their eye, perhaps the theft of their humanity, security. There was a kinship they all held, unbeknownst to them; words unspoken Every girl sat with baggage toppled to the ceiling: the room was full and at the same time I realized it was empty; I was alone, completely deserted Only one pair of eyes still glinted with hope, aspirations, belief in humanity They were mine. For you