As the last drop of rain slowly trickles to a stop,
I wander out to the field to inhale a breath of fresh air.
My soul takes in the aroma of the last of the season’s crop,
Only to be shaken by the poverty stricken child’s glare.
Alas, Who do we think we really are ?
Pretending to be blind to the world around us.
Ignoring the needy, neglecting a blind man’s scar,
Self obsessed with our petty lives, not worth a fuss.
If only we change our vision of society,
Donate an extra pair, may be show some empathy.
Don’t just sit at home watching helplessly,
May be one day we might be in need of their sympathy.
No comments:
Post a Comment