Carried On My Back To Master

If tears from my eyes,
Are seen to drip...
As if from a faulty faucet,
Needing to be fixed.
I have just observed and visited,
The sufferings endured...
By my sisters and brothers.
Enduring hunger and homelessness...
In once thriving neighborhoods.

If my tongue seems to be tensed,
And incensed with laments.
I have just observed and visited,
The sufferings endured...
By my sisters and brothers.
Enduring hunger and homelessness...
In once thriving neighborhoods.

If my comments should offend,
Anyone listening...
With pretensions they defend.
I have just observed and visited,
The sufferings endured...
By my sisters and brothers.
Enduring hunger and homelessness...
In once thriving neighborhoods.

And I do the best I can...
To continue my journey,
With a focus at my command.
Trying to comprehend and understand...
Why my tears,
Falling in a silence no one hears...
Can not nourish or flourish those lives I pass,
As I grasp these visions appearing...
On my path.
Knowing my own burdens and tasks,
Are carried on my back to master!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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