burning eyes in the alleyway of pain
can almost feel the sorrow of pelting rain
plastic bags washed up against the broken brick
gnarled hand and coat and walking stick
grasping a rail to break free from crippleness
fallen face the plastic card of hopelessness
groaning steam from ‘neath covered grate,
the old man waking in angel’s arms too late:
in the endless wall of shame
where the ending is the same.
This only part of the poem I originally published on here. It was published, but part of it disappeared.
This poem is simply about having compassion- nothing at all revolutionary. I am not venting about Obama, Islam, fascists, Christianity, or anything else that makes some people censor other people. My hope is that you will read it and dwell on it and remember those in our cities throughout the world- not the USA only- who fall through the cracks because there are too many people only looking to satisfy their selfishness. I trust you will not find this offensive. If you do, please leave me a comment saying so. I do not intende to offend anyone, I intend to perusade others to be more compassionate.