Listen

Look at my bones,
That are wearing out,
Drop by drop they fall,
On the dry ground.

See the tears that fall,
From the sockets of my eyes,
They are dry and empty,
But flow with a thud.

Touch my hands,
That wave with no life,
They float in the air,
And are blown to the East.

Gaze at my feet,
That are feeble,
Can’t make a step,
Neither lift me up to heavens.

Hear the beats of my heart,
With lifeless rhythms,
As they shake me up,
Nearly to the death bed.

Listen to my weak voice,
That cries in the wilderness,
Seeking to be delivered,
From the abandonment.

I wish you had eyes,
To see,
Ears to listen,
Hands to touch, 
Then you could judge from there.

abusedesirelifeimagism

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