Member-only story
Someone’s Child
A poem
I often wonder what the world would be like if we remembered that everyone we meet is someone else’s child.
Would we have more compassion? Would we carry one another with more tenderness? Would softness be the thing we greeted another with, instead of shards of hate?
Someone out there once kissed those cheeks, bandaged those skinned knees, and grabbed those hands as they crossed the street.
Someone out there once sang lullabies, read bedtime stories, and played hide and seek.
Someone out there taught them to read, and write, and speak, and dream.
Someone out there still worries about every hair on their head and prays that they’ll always be healthy. And happy. And alright.
And someone out there would be shattered should they not make it to see the morning light.
