I have held the child and crestfallen
been. I have seen the face of famine
its peevish and sullen glare, a face
with hollow eyes and missing smile.
Of slow and ambling gait it drags
its cloak of misery and despair with
neither thought nor care.
It hands out pain and poverty in ever
increasing portions, disease and total
depredation flow in streams of human
sadness. Hearts and souls are reaped
in the squander of man's neglect, as
the child's cry is drowned in the open
apathy of fellow man.
Monies donated often lost or misspent,
policies adopted constantly fail, ideals
concealed in hidden agenda's, dreams
smitten by the sword of avarice and
The West sits astride the mountains
of surplus commodities to maintain
price levels, as the arms trade to the
third world flourishes bestowing
more grief and suffering.
It is beyond belief that in Africa
green oasis's were created so that
the World cup could take place, and
yet in other areas a field of corn or
wheat is still wanting.
Human we are humane we are not,
somewhere in the jungle of priorities
we are lost. Yes I know tonight I will
sit and eat my fill in comfort, maybe
a dessert of guilt.
Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman