A purple hand bag

I glanced at my purple hand bag

hanging over the hook.

In a corner of a room,

With sunlight coming on it. 

I felt happy and connected.

 I then glanced at the window,

I saw kids playing in the street with

faces filled with energy and glow.

I felt at peace.

But then I looked at my TV set,

Watched the news that was on.

I happened to see a same purple hand bag

Held tightly by a little boy

 all covered in dirt.

His eyes full of fear,

and lips trembling with pain.

He stood in a corner with a purple hand bag.

Hoping his mom will see her bag from a distance

And will come and rescue him.

Will take him home where no

sign of fear, hate and war will exist.

I again looked at my purple hand bag

and tears rolled down from my eyes.

 

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