How come I get to live
And you don't?
Why is it that I have everything
And you have nothing?
Why am I compelled to look into your faces,
Faces full of longing, desperation?
Acceptance.
My eyes meet yours,
What is it that you see?
Pity? Guilt?
What do you see through those lamb-eyes of yours?
A toad? A snake?
Tell me,
What is it that you see?
Author notes
I go to a Catholic school in a poor area, and I'm always struck by the contrast between us, the privileged, in our cars, on our phones, with our ipods, but always stressed, compared with the serene poverty around our school. I always wondered how we could preach Christianity and mission and send our students off into the world to do things for mankind when we have the needy literally right outside of our door. But we talk about how they're the problem, ya know? We sit in class or the cafeteria and discuss them like they're termites or roaches or something. But when you look into their eyes they're so much more.
A contest entry
- .slave to detail. by girl shaman.
500 points, ended September 27, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I really like this one. I've definitely felt this way before too. It makes me wonder how it's decided who's privileged in life or not. Nice job!
-
interesting i think would be the right word to describe this poem
tell me where did you get the inspiration to write this?
Adding your comment:
