Somewhere, In Ferguson, Missouri......

Somewhere, in Ferguson, Missouri...... There is a little child looking at the ruins of her home. It might not have been the nicest of homes, certainly, no palace, but it had all of the hallmarks of being called a home. It had love and safety, in a world not always filled with love and safety. But, for some reason that the child did not comprehend, it has all been taken away in less than a few hours. Some strangers came around the neighborhood and torched the carefully kept home. Now, it was no more for the child. All of the toys and instruments for a successful childhood were wiped away in a way the child would never understand. With Thanksgiving approaching, a time of celebration of the people you love, the child was out in the cold. One more victim...... Somewhere, in Ferguson, Missouri...... The store owner could only stare. He had been a child of the streets, when real poverty was a constant and unwelcome companion. There were nights when he would go to sleep without eating, a nagging, hurtful pain dug into his stomach. But, he had survived the mean streets and slowly pulled himself up. He went to school and got an education. He came back sort of a conquering hero, the local boy made good. And, he was determined to reward his upbringing. He would be there for the neighborhood. He opened his store years ago. A small grocery store, nothing major, and, certainly, nothing to compete with the big titans. No, the store owner was for the little man stuck down, way down, in life. His prices were reasonable. He hired the local youth to give them something to hold their heads high about.  And, for years he made good. The neighborhood needed him and he needed them. Then, the riot started and in mere minutes it was all gone. His beloved store. The neighborhood he had caressed with his feelings turned against him and burned it down. Everything, his whole life, gone up in flames. The man sat by the ruins. His head was in his hands. Another victim....... Somewhere, in Ferguson, Missouri...... The police officer watched it all through fear. She knew that the police should always show strength and courage. And, she did. She was proud of being a police officer. The fact that she served a community that, at times, did not appreciate her putting her life on the line everyday made her sad, but, also made her determined. She had the dream of turning the resentment into acceptance. She picked the heavily crime ridden area of Ferguson. She saw the faces of those that considered her an intruder, the real enemy. However, she shrugged it off. She had fond feelings for the residents, most just wanted to live in peace and quiet. They were fed up with crime. That was the True Enemy. The residents grew to grudgingly accept her presence in the area. She felt that she had made real progress and helped save lives. Maybe, on her most hopeful of days, the tide of racial misunderstanding and stereotypes were finally receding. Then, she saw the rioting. The burning police cars. The store owner pleading for his store to not get torched. The little child in the streets watching with big eyes as her home was torched. And, the police officer saw the faces of those around her, the people who she had sworn to protect. She saw hate in some eyes but mostly, the look of those who were weary of the racial battle. She bowed her head and wept her grief. Another victim........ Somewhere, in Ferguson, Missouri..... The rioter saw another target. It was a TV store. He wanted as much as he could possibly get because it was open season right now. Many hundreds, perhaps, thousands, were all around him playing the riot game. Self-interest and violent feelings disguised as ''making a statement''. He did not know Michael Brown, could not have cared a shit what happened to him. But, a few self-exploiting extortionist preachers had told him that violence and intimidation was allowed to express the rage in the community. Use your anger, they said in so many words, to punish the real Devil in life. The rioter, too stupid to use the common sense that God gave a goose, let free his murderous soul and went out looking to hurt. He never realized that he was the true racist as bad as his evil opposite. He was judging skin color instead of content of character. But, even in his most ''rationale'' of moments he would not understand. He was a walking blood machine. And, women and children were not even spared. He had torched the home of the little child, he had torched the store owner. He torched the police car. All done with a gleeful spirit that Hitler would have admired. Hate drove him and he did not know why. And, when he out running in the streets, he saw his fellow citizens spew their hate. Never would he see the light, never would he realize that by doing what he was doing, he was dividing the races even more. His true intention was chaos. He held his head high. Making victims....... Somewhere, in Ferguson, Missouri...... There is the fading spirit of hope. Hope for a better world. Hope for children to live safe and adults to live in harmony. Hope for understanding. Hope for a saner society from everyone. These feelings echo around the world. The circle of destruction just closed in again on the world. The circle of madness and hate is getting stronger and stronger...... And, we are all victims.......