It seems not much changes when you are in office. I wrote this years ago - one of the few poems I have published. Sad how apt is still is today.
Puddles of Pain
Sequestered by collective greed
neglected puddles of pain
forgotten people bleeding
from wounds they've yet to sustain
They cry out, why can't you see
we're hurting here below
we're sick, we're poor, the oldest ones
possibly someone you know
Insulted by terminal apathy
starved for a morsel of hope
buried by society's fears
under what we refuse to know
They screamed out, we didn't hear
left them without smiles
the weak, the slow, the broken
possibly your neighbor's child
Trampled by heinous lies
pillaged of their dreams
forgotten humans dying
on cold, one-way streets
They reached out, we didn't see
the many blatant signs
the lost, the weary, puddles of pain
running through our lives
Sandy Knauer
ã January 2004
No comments:
Post a Comment