The Fate of the Poorest
The clouds up there are moving, restlessly! Taking a direction known only to them, and the Creator! What a challenge, Oh my people, to be able to foretell the future! We watch him grow, and become a boy. He walks, he cries, he laughs, he sleeps. Never loosing his smile. While all the time he bears in his body, a reason big enough to make him perpetually out of mood! The fate of the poor children, born with handicap. And those others, innocently bearing the scurge of HIV-AIDS! When you look at them grow like other children, with dreams of a bright future. Now you need faith to confirm their dreams! Well, sadly true, sorrow and joy co-exists! And I don't know how, just as I don't know how, the clouds up there move!