By Mory Keita
I write for the voiceless in NYC’s subways,
Strapped in misery in the big apple,
City of dreams and universal wonders,
They walk their walks like ghosts in bliss,
They pass train by train begging,
Begging for understanding and subsistence,
Telling their lives chronicles to the stranger,
But they are unheard for their lives do not matter.
What has their dreams become?
They too sing songs of America like immigrants,
And dream of better future and opportunity.
Why don’t we bail them out?
Why don’t we let them prove their worth?
I write for the unheard children in Darfur?
Those the world snub like out-casts.
They seek peace and love but are crushed like insects,
They walk their walks like ghost in the inferno.
Is humanity blind to their sufferings?
Or has mankind lost its “humanity”?
Written for the inferno challenge: blind
Written for the inferno challenge: blind
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5 comments:
Mory,
you are blessed to have such a wonderful social conscience and to express this within your words.
Eileen
Nice poem. I think that " mankind lost its humanity". Most people do not really feel sympathy for homeless people on the streets and subways.The people who try to help these homeless people also let themselves be influenced by those cold-hearted people. For instance, in the subway, I often see people wanting to give money to those homeless people but refuse because are others are not doing it. So sorry for them that they realize the good they are doing for those homeless.
You chose an awesome subject. I could see this being tweeked into something awesome for slam poetry. Have you ever thought of doing that?
Thank you everyone. Tsionah, i never tried that, maybe i should.
I've never done it either... But I really enjoy watching it!
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