Tag Archives: sympathy

Stench Of Urine

Stench of urine,

Cardboard shacks,

Shopping carts,

Tattered clothes,

Hand-me-downs from the dumpster I suppose.

 

Rummaging through waste baskets,

Feasting on tainted food scraps,

Hiding in the shadows,

Sleeping on steam grates,

Misused,

Abused,

Something less than human.

 

Left for dead in the cold,

Filth in the form of flesh and blood,

But have you ever looked into their eyes,

Heard their hearts beat,

Seen them cry,

Gasp for their final breath?

 

I’m sure you haven’t

As you stepped over their broken bodies,

Avoiding them like the plague,

Chuckling at their despair,

On your way to your comfortable life.

 

Can’t you take a moment to lend a hand,

A little food,

A little shelter,

A bit of cash,

Instead of treating them like lepers,

Feeding off teets of the man..

 

You don’t know them,

You don’t know their stories,

Their hardships,

Their tragedies,

But you should…

They are our brothers and sister after all.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Look Into Their Eyes

Look into their eyes,

Can you see the glory in their souls,

Do you feel the oneness…

Their fibers intertwined with yours in this earthly plane?

Journey deep within,

It is there,

Hiding where it has always been…

Your humanity.

I do not believe in your hatred!

How can you look into the eyes of a child

And wish them harm?

How can you hear the cries of a mother for her son

And deny her pain?

How can a line drawn in the sand

Damn a man to certain death in the vicious desert?

Is their blood not red as yours?

Feel the beat of your own heart,

See beyond what your narrow vision shows,

Realize that you are nothing more than them!

Judgement day will reveal your fate by word and deed

Leaving you to find that YOU–

Just may be the least among men.

 

~~ Dominic R. DIFrancesco ~~

How Can I Complain

How can I complain,

With food, shelter and clothing

A place to call home.

I am not ravaged by war,

Despised by much of the world.

This joyous season

Take the time to remember…

We are truly blessed.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

This Walk Amongst The Dead

This walk amongst the dead.

This dance with mortality.

Partnered with those that believe they will live forever.

Gathering, greedily hoarding every last cent

They race to the pinnacle of their professions

At the expense of those they deem competition,

Trampling anyone who gets in their way.

Fattened as the calf bank accounts swell as do their bellies.

Designer clothes and jewelry adorn their swollen vessels.

No thought do they give to the rest of humanity;

Their fellow man is but an impedance to future success.

They have no time for them,

No time for their mates nor their children,

No time for their brothers and sisters that share this earth.

What is their endgame?

When is enough, enough?

They don’t realize that they are already dead,

Dead to the world, their mates and their children.

Paupers as they were at birth

With their final blink there will be no wealth,

No grand houses,

No designer clothes,

No jewelry;

No one will weep on their pine box.

When the last shovel-full of dirt is thrown on their grave

They will be utterly alone, naked and penniless

–Before their Maker.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Pain Like No Other

Pain…like no other

Living–wrong side of the tracks.

Dirty and hungry;

Sunken eyes reveal sadness

Under shroud of filthy streets.

Urchins you call them,

Throwaways to be ignored,

Wastes of human flesh.

Where is your humanity?

They’re people like you and me

Children of this world

Worthy of our sympathy

Worthy of our love

You best take heed!

For one day it may be you

That is spit upon.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Wouldst Thou Love Me Were I A Peasant (Sonnet)

Wouldst thou love me were I a peasant,

Owning little but what hangs upon my back.

I thinkest thou would not find this so pleasant,

Discarding me for all of this world that I lack.

 

Wouldst thou speaketh to me were I a leper,

Or ignore me whilst turning a blind eye.

I thinkest thou would prefer me fettered,

In shackles where none could see me cry.

 

Wouldst thou hold me if I were a poor wretch dying,

Alone and filthy on thy city thoroughfare.

I thinkest thou would leaveth me bloody and lying,

‘Til the ravens come to taketh their share.

 

Is compassion so hard for thee to perceive, casting feeling aside with nary a care.

Giveth from the heart and thou shalt conceive, a life full of blessing worthy to share.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~