A kindergartener sang a song
about Jesus for a talent show.
The audience buzzed with
a loud agreement
of how simply adorable
the girl sounded and looked
as she spouted her words
about how Jesus loved her
and our bodies are weak
but Jesus is strong.

An eleventh grader stepped
onto the stage with confidence.
A guitar sat silently between his
hands as he settled onto the
stool under the microphone.
His lips shifted carefully as
he dedicated his performance
to soldiers and the awful
side of things us civilians
do not see.

He began to sing, words
drifting over the heads of
the attentive audience.

The guitar stopped crooning
along with his voice and he
uttered an apology under
the tape slapped over his
mouth.

A song of war,
silenced.

A black bar shaking
uneasily over the words
he could have spoken.

He didn't believe in
censoring the arts
despite the demands
of the school
and simply
walked off of the stage.

As the girl who sang about Jesus
proudly held up her prize,
a song lay broken
under her feet.

Under the eyes
of Jesus.