Light turned red,
You pushed the brake
Car came to a halt
In a sea of metalic breaths
Sitting behind the wheels,
Frown creasing your brow
Caught glimpse of a beggar
Begging through windows
Revulsion filled your mind
Like a dam bursting in flood
You muttered under breath
'Why can't she work?'
The child in her lap
Watching life with vacant stare
Perhaps he wanted to know
What momma was doing there
Clothes torn and filthy,
Dirty matted hair,
Pleading look in her crust covered eyes
Arm outstretched for alms
'Doesn't she have any pride?'
You felt nausea choking your throat
at lack of her pride
Suddenly a thought hit you hard,
Right between the eyes
'How does God feel,
When I beg for a better life?'
-
Author:
Rebellion In Sanity (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2024 09:05
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments2
Excellent write
I feel thankful for your appreciation.
You're welcome
Despite my lack of belief or interest in 'God', I can relate to this. Did anyone request to be born who they were?
For me your poem is a proposition easy to read and understand.
Perhaps I ask so many questions in my poem because I really have no clue. Do we choose to be who we are or do the forces of nature somehow predestine our paths? Funny thing is I am not even sure it is the right question to ask.
If at first..... try another.
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