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Poem

The sun is below the sight of morn
Another day had died, anew will be born
I lay on a soft bed, thoughts spread out wide
Quietly wishing I from my mind could hide
For in the night just as the moon peaked
I found guilt for which will not be speaked
For I in my heart knew not the sight of pain
I knew not of those in the rain
For my eyes had seen, my brain rejected
A false fantasy was there irrected
Teachers had preached, people have speached
But this horror my heart had not yet reached
Within me I have a pride
I am truly revolted inside
My eyes will not close for sleeping
I feel as though pain is creeping
For death is quietly reaping
Those poor souls who lost all tears for weeping
For in lands there are others
Those who cannot stay with their mothers
There are those who cannot feed
They don’t even have books to go and read
Death has them like wheat in rows
Where death’s scythe kills what grows
This ignorance is something I rue
Wealth around me is nothing new
I sit here with prayers I had been keeping
Let my money no longer stay heaping
I have nowhere to put my cares
I need to find more to add to my affairs
There are those with no grain
They have too much they have to gain
For which they pitifully strain
I know I am not the only one
Of the ones who help none
I know there are more
Who arrogantly try to raise their war
I know that there are others with more power
But they wouldn’t come in the hour
I need to get others to work
Instead of letting them noisily lurk
I have money not spending
I need to stop pretending
There are lives I need to try to start mending
So here the sun is below the sight of morn
Another day had died, anew will be born
I lay on a soft bed, thoughts spread out wide
Quietly wishing I from my mind could hide

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