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Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I Hear a Roar

Might I be alone
walking and talking
while life’s storm rolls
following me from behind
like a roaring train
coming as I walk
on it’s tracks

Waking in the warmth
of my bed with my wife’s
embrace, my two little
‘kids’ lying at my feet
coffee percolating sound
letting me waft
the beginning of
my day

Belied by nightmarish dreams
of the unfortunate
who’ve recently felt the wrath
of ‘mother nature’s’ hand
now waking in a
foreign space
wrapped around by arms
of angry, saddening
disgrace

tracing the steps
of those disheartened souls
whose every waking day
decry those of us
with so much
who don’t hear
their cries
their children’s
starvation woes

seeing a woman
standing in a street corner
with a cardboard sign
pressed against her chest
indiscernible letters written
with her children's crayons
a man stands next to her
with a plastic bag
in each hand
filled with empty cans
cars speed by

The roaring sound
that rolls behind
is of steps and grunts
coming from our ‘maker’
chasing to catch
this uncaring world
of his own creation
and shake it
from it’s core