Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud
Too much, too long, too many hurts
yet lashing out, is not fair to others.
Sick, and sad, is mankind
all the pain, eating our hearts.
Unkind words; and tempers flare
misunderstanding, the culture block.
Wars caused by theft and greed
a breeding place, for hate’s disease.
If you have not lived, in homeless need
you cannot understand, why they grieve.
Never, having known true hunger
there is no, gentle empathy, for the starving.
Holding silent, no confidence;
no love of self, or anyone else.
Searching blindly, for acceptance;
begging, for a little understanding.
Sinking, in a murky ocean, drowning
fearing, there is no, life jacket thrown me.
Over head, the darkness, is closing
not one crack of light, is showing.
The wounded warriors’ hearts are breaking
closed into, their own world, bleeding deeply.
Slowly, every door, is creaking, closed
no graceful exit, no honor shown them.
Where are those who owe them their very existence;
those prancing liars who, in their stead, sent them?
How many times, have they used them
each time, convincing them, it was the right thing?
Always, destroying innocents, in the way
of what, civilized progress, or greedy despots?
Who pays the price, with self hatred, tears flowing
minds, shocked by the destruction, each time?
The Wounded Warrior!
©Copyright July 28, 2009 by Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud