I Fear the Slow Dying We See Every Day

I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of the slow dying that happens while the heart is still beating. I’m afraid of hunger that teaches a child to mistake sleep for dinner, and of mothers who hide their tears so their children can believe tomorrow will bring bread. I’m afraid of sickness when medicine is priced beyond the reach of the poor. I’m afraid of hospitals where hope is measured in money, and of fathers who grow smaller under the shame of being unable to provide what their families need. I’m afraid of loneliness in a crowded room, of calling for help and hearing only silence. No, I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of a world where people disappear slowly in plain sight, and everyone sees them but no one stays long enough to help.

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