It hurts literally to look into the faces of the future and to know that for most, it’s the beginning of the end. Trapped, confined, imprisoned by ones own culture; we have no chance of release if we have nothing realistic to grasp on to. Hope isn’t enough to feed ones family, action-less faith has never been enough to return absent fathers to their homes. I have a pained expression…

So I express pain. Is this that hard to understand? That hurting people hurt people? No longer will I suppress these feelings, “no longer” will not feed those that are hungry for knowledge. I have failed; yes even I have been a victim to these uncanny circumstances. I feel as if I am obligated to put a wrench in this machine that is destroying my culture. Yet, am I alone in this endeavor? Does anyone feel these sorrows? Are you not tired of speaking to your family through Plexiglass? Aren’t you fed up with the endless funerals and the hospital visits?

Pained expressions, I have a pained expression and if my afflictions aren’t healed, then I must die giving this future a chance to live without these shackles that corrupt the mind. No more scars, no more afflictions, no more pain. Not for our future, for them I struggle, for them I survive, for them I continue to carry the burdens of exposing these pained expressions.