Please, come back for them.

Don't come back for me.

Come for the father who carries his disabled son through triathlons.
Come for the babies whose daddies don't come back from war the same, if at all.
Come back so my friend can see his mom again.
Don't come for me, but for them.

Come for the daughters who think touch equals love.
Come for the ones whose shattered homes cannot show them how to love.
Come back for the one who was so beautiful, then one car collision forever changed what's normal.
Don't come for me, but for them.

Come for the singing African babies, born with a death sentence.
Come for the ones who know nothing but hunger pain and cold concrete, just down the street from my hot chocolate.
Come back for the those who lived in shacks, and now the rubble of shacks.
Don't come for me, but for them.