Perspectives

"You don't care.  You're so unfair!"

I slam the door, hit the stairs,

hit the biting winter air,

I've done so much for her.  What about me?

I storm down the street

it's starting to sleet.

I see stamping her feet,

taking a seat on the bare concrete

a woman - her bags

are empty, she sags

exhausted, her rags

are filthy.  I look the other way.  

A voice starts to say

This is why you're here today.

I look up, our eyes meet,

I cross the street

say nothing, sit down

on the icy ground

beside her.  The sound

of her cough blends with sobs.  I feel

dirty inside, her appeal

for human compassion

tramples my selfish passion.

She talks, I listen - her life story, my mission

Squashed by injustice, loss, and sickness

forgotten by society, family and goodness.

Not giving up on God, she

was hoping for a chance to be 

treated like a human being again.

Somehow, my anger ends.  

I stand up, take her hand

"I don't have any plans 

for dinner - if you'd like, you can

join my mom and me.  Let's be friends."

We go back to my apartment

Mom sees who I brought in 

and says without saying anything 

a thousand words.  I can see now.

                                        

                                            Proverbs 21:13

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741