Children are barometers of the chaos that exists within their lives.
Loss has no friend, no allies, no benefit to the human spirit.
Grandchildren are their grandparents’ toys.
There is no greater grief, than when a parent losses a child.
This was the ghetto: where children grow down instead of up.
The dream too thinks twice, gets filtered to go softto be seated on children’s eyes.
There are two kinds of travel: first class and with children.
Done because we are too many.
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