Blind Doves

A begging hand on corner streets, The shoeless child running away, A legless dog that wants some treats Are city mutes with more to say. A gentleman hits his own wife Because the soup is cold; The lonely lady with her cats Just wants someone to hold. The starving bum from down the alley Rides with his cart and preaches still And we all think we understand Ergo treating them ill. We are so quick to judge, But never to find more, Our precious time is precious Helping them is a chore. Eventually we throw some coins, So shades of guilt shrink faster. We like to think we did enough By playing in the game, But really winning smiles Takes more than useless change. Blind doves of peace are sent To bring us all together. Sadly they miss. And we don’t seek for better Ways.