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
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Comments: 46
hidden behind clouded lies
Society turns its back
as if the only despise.
Some political dude
rides to office on their pain.
Distorting the reality
all over again.
Trampled by heinous lies.
Big hugs, Sandy.
forgotten humans dying
on cold, one-way streets
They reached out, we didn't see
Chilling reminder of the effects of apathy.
Ferrero, I had forgotten this poem until I read your article earlier. Thank you for bringing the subject back out.
Donna, sorry to be such a downer. Much as I hate to spread ugliness, I think it has to be done sometimes.
Ludolf, thank you. I value the opinions of readers as much as those of writers, although I think you are a writer.
Spencer, you're so good at that! One day we'll have to collect your comments and publish them as a Condensed version of Gather articles. Thanks for always being supportive.
Zenith, I appreciate the hug, your comments, and being able to share my truth with you.
Donna, thank you. Stark isn't always something I do well but I think this topic calls for it.
Bonnie, Apathy.. thanks for using that word. That's where the power is.
Stephen, thank you!
This is really good!
Eloquent and with feeling, you remind us of the forgotten ones.
Heard and seen,
but, covered in lies about why,
then ignored.
many layers here, i suspect. a lot to think about.
Possibly someone you know"
You said it all. Thanks for a great article.
delightfully triste.
jobe
God, please help us...
Your poetry blows me away. This seems to be very original symbolism.
The weak and sick no longer have a backbone or muscles, or even a body. But water can flow, can't it? Although perhaps only downhill, unless there is some external force to push it uphill.
I am encouraged, though, by the trend of many cities to procure apartments for the homeless. They are finding this to be much cheaper than having the police and ER's deal with the homeless.
Why did it take us so long to figure this out?
Thanks so much for sharing!
Thank you too, Ann. I'm sorry I didn't see your comment before.
neglected puddles of pain...
such a wonderful line
but the whole is so dark it sorta repels any further close examination