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.
Copyright © Luminita Stoica | Year Posted 2007
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