Friday, 13 July 2012

CHOICE.


 
CHOICE.

I have seen the wretched and the poor.
walked with them through gutter and sewer
as they drag their torn rags and begging cup,
hoping somewhere to rest, something to sup.

I have spoken to ears that hear no cheer
and looked into eyes that only know fear
listened with guilt to their lingering pain
their quest for dignity, comfort, all in vain.

Now ask yourself my friend, if they had a voice
would this dark world be their road of choice?
Would they willing seek a doorway for a bed
or choose the eiderdown with belly well fed?

Are they some alien race preordained to doom
who must live their torpid life in poverty's tomb?
Perhaps my friends, our selfish thoughtless way
Has brought them to where they are today.

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