Tell me,

When children lay dying
In muddied dusty streets
In a place so far removed
From the world you've hewn
A niche all for yourself
And your loved ones,
Do you pity them?

Tell me,

When bombs fall in the night
Filling children, women, and men with fright
For their meager yet worthy lives
Apt to be cut short before their time,
Do you sympathize?

Tell me,

When the man on the street
With one hand and no feet
Shakes a half empty cup
Begging for your money to sup
On something more than handouts
At the local shelter,
Do you drop your high-held nose and also a few coins?

Tell me,

When the neighbor girl
Walks past your door
On a triple-digit summer day
In long sleeves and heavy pants,
Do you stiffen with concern
That mottled skin might lie beneath
Her carefully constructed facade?

Tell me,

How close to home
Must tragedy strike
Before your eyes
See humanity?

Must it be your best friend on drugs
Or your mother with her whiskey
Or your brother with his guns
Or your daughter with her cuts,
Or even yet all of them dead
Because of their sins and addictions
That kept them
From living instead of merely surviving
Until one day they threw in the towel
And now you can't follow.

Tell me,

What will it take?
For us to see humanity.