Puddles of Pain

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

Sandy Knauer
ć January 2004