Unowned Backpacks

Before the legislature building lies hundreds of backpacks. Marked with Orange handprints all over. Each backpack represents a child that never got to wear it. Each one of those little lives was taken away before it was their time. They never got to grow up. Never got to fall in love. Never got to start a family. Never got to see the wonders of this world.

Standing there at the footsteps of the legislature building. Holding my little girl by the hand. My eyes begin to water. She looks at me with a look of care and confusion. "What's wrong Daddy? Are you okay?" She asks. I whip my eyes and pretend that nothing happened. "I'll tell you when you are older."