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.
Children are barometers of the chaos that exists within their lives.
Loss has no friend, no allies, no benefit to the human spirit.
We first become salesmen as children in the confession booths of our parents.
Grandchildren are their grandparents’ toys.
Life – with or without softener- is hard
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