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Into Your Hands
by David R Spellman
My hands felt comfort at the touch
Of freedom’s luxuries that have given much
To a lifelong quest of liberty’s pursuit
In a life that may never bear a worthy fruit
Her hands were tossed in a garbage heap
Eyes grown swollen from the tears she did weep
They had ravaged her once, then over again
Lopped off those hands as payment for her sin
I pressed the remote to change to MTV
Switching my attention from the tragedy
No more of it do I choose to bear
The happenings so far away from here
Her village left burnt and charred
A blinded world now forever marred
While she wanders through her jungle land
To quickly die ‘neath some ebony stand
Our hands are clenched in fists of rage
At the price of gas, low living wage
Never reaching out across a world so small
To right the wrongs left to bind us all
07/09/2005 Posted on 07/09/2005
Copyright © 2024 David R Spellman
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Mara Meade on 07/09/05 at 09:02 PM Indeed... the primitive nature of "justice" in other parts of the world can leave us horrified. This is heart-breaking... not just those who suffer such "justice" but for those who consider LIFE sacred. Amen, David. |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 07/10/05 at 04:35 AM The dividing lines seems so strong, though so false. |
| Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 07/10/05 at 11:08 AM great comparisons~eye opener |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 07/11/05 at 02:33 AM A passionate plea that we as individuals can make a difference. "Better to light one little candle than to curse the darkness." The church of which I am affiliated strongly encourages and gives lots of opportunities to help in some way. |
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