And the starving display their carnage through the suffocating stream of my weeping. I stroke their brow. They do not stir like a nourished child. A cherub, weary of truth, sits by the side of the road, “Will work miracles for food” reads the sign in her tiny hands. Passersby roll their eyes, “Another homeless and hungry- Get a damned job!” (Another callous human- Get a damned heart!) The road and alley and home are too filled with the starved.
O! Let it rain! Let it drop a flood of love through the sun! Come rain! Come love! Descend from thy heaven, only to once more ascend, only to fall again and the starving to relinquish their carnage.
O! Let it rain! Let it drop a flood of love through the sun! Come rain! Come love! Descend from thy heaven, only to once more ascend, only to fall again and the starving to relinquish their carnage.
© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
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