Continuing the theme of poetry and personal thoughts, a couple more personal views.
Who Am I.
Who am I
This son of a waitress
son of a miner
statistic from a Glasgow slum
digit in a National Health Service
walking in a fog
endeavouring to separate heaven from hell
reaching out to hands that aren’t there
sailing in the wrecked hull of hope
seeking a safe harbour
a soft beach to land
trying to forget yesterday
hoping too fashion tomorrow
who am I
I am a camera with ears
seeking a voice
wanting to be heard
in this tower of Babel
Compassion.
Sometimes our strength breaks
not because of the burdens in our life
but because of our compassion
As year in year out we bear witness
to the savage claws of poverty
rip into the hearts of a legion of children
watch our green Earth stained red
with the blood of innocents in endless wars
standing silently by an see the young and old
die slowly from avoidable disease
and tragedy of human created disasters
compassion a necessary component
of that better world we all crave
but a crushing burden in this world
fashioned by greed power and privilege.
Sometimes our strength breaks
not because of the burdens in our life
but because of our compassion
As year in year out we bear witness
to the savage claws of poverty
rip into the hearts of a legion of children
watch our green Earth stained red
with the blood of innocents in endless wars
standing silently by an see the young and old
die slowly from avoidable disease
and tragedy of human created disasters
compassion a necessary component
of that better world we all crave
but a crushing burden in this world
fashioned by greed power and privilege.
No comments:
Post a Comment