Conscious

Conscious There once was a man so full of sorrowHe had trouble seeing far past the ‘morrowHe devised a plan to leave his warm homeOut in the land he was destined to roam He wanted to see if there was goodness in menHe wanted to live, find peace from within Did anyone care there was hunger and painThere were homeless and nameless viewed with disdain He understood all men weren’t treated as equalsBut mere afterthoughts; bad second hand sequels As he traveled a land full of people with plentyHe found some with no heart, self-centered, and emptyThere were some who touched him, who were awareThere were many in need, who needed someone to care. There were a few with hearts of pure goldDenied themselves to look after the oldThese ‘helpers’ did not see it as going withoutThey glowed from within and shared without doubt Then there were those who helped disaster preyPick up their lives-torn-asunder after the frayThey helped to feed them, get some place dryListened to all their fears as they sat down to cry His heart was lightened, he had found among manNot all were self-centered, bent on their own planThere was still the capacity to care and to loveLong ago was a story; of an olive branch and a dove.  © Tonya02.05.2009