When the evening comes
The cry is singing
For the a poor child
Oppressed into labor
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
The dead is dancing
Over innocents bodies
Smashed in the desert
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
The scent is odorless
For an extinct nature
In run for the money
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
The law is blind
For a criminal mind
Pleading insanity
While laughing inside
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
Indifference is stabbing
As passing a homeless
Looking the other way
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
The love is gone
For an abandon child
Inside of a dumpster
By a reckless mother
And it hurts me.
When the evening comes
The silence is calling
The thought of a question
That is pushed in abyss
Human, It hurts to be you?
When the evening comes….
Adrian B 
*are & not *ate😊
Beautiful. Yes when we ate alone with our thoughts is when we are haunted by such thoughts…when we see pain, suffering and are helpless to do anything or walk away…..food for thought
Thank you Nimi for your beautiful thought.