“Daddy, I just want my bike.” she cried,
as the tyrants laughed.

“Why can’t I have my bike?”

Darling child… beautiful child…
How it breaks my heart to know.

Evil people exist because they
lost their hearts.

Somehow, that very normal
part of us all fell away from them.

They kept your bike, and your clothes,
and all your property from you

because that piece of them that should
care about you is gone.

But, like dropping an empty bottle
into the ditch, their emptiness was filled

with ugly, dirty, filthy junk, and
nothing we do to them can clean them up.

They have to clean themselves up.

They have to choose to love again.

They have to cry simply because you cried.

I cry because you cried.

Everyone cried because you cried.

Maybe if we cry because they can’t cry,
it will send some love soap for their souls.

Maybe.