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Friday, December 13, 2013

A Futile Lament for Relief

A man stood on the subway platform, incessantly calling out;
As the trains were steadily passing, and commuter’s amassing.
Destitute, ignored, and socially deplored, he continued to shout.

His eyes were filled with a strange sort of desperation;
From his lips cries spilled, like the liquids of perspiration.
The repetitive echoes, emanated from his continuous calls;
Reverberating like an orchestras performance, on concert halls.

Deep in his Flesh, he knew each of the passerby’s could hear;
And in his Heart – pain, for none would lend a compassionate ear.
Their dismissal pierced, his Skin and Organ, like a fatal spear.

Finally, a young child and her mother, walked past his incessant pleas;
The young girl`s hair, innocently blowing, in the passing cars breeze.
Time would pause for a moment, as the man and child locked eyes;
His were brown as the earth, and hers were azure as the skies.
The virtuous youth, had yet to become a gadget of humanity;
And saw only a desperate soul, where other`s saw insanity.  

She looked at him with curiosity, and her mind grew very puzzled:
Wondering why no other would assist the man who was troubled?
Why they leered, mocked, and neglected; another who struggled?

So, without a moment of further contemplation,
She decided to help him – no indifferent hesitation.
Knowing (without cognition) that a smile, a wave, and a friendly "hi";
Might be the cure, for the stranger, who seemed to internally die.

The youth tenderly prepared to offer, the injured individual, a friendly wave;
But stayed the salutation at the roaring command, which her callous mother gave.
Her eyes filled with tears; as the next train - took the beaten, conceded man to his grave.

Composed By: A. D.

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