to care only for the poor,
without compromise;
the idealism of the ages,
the easiest of all politics;
we must sacrifice no matter what;
but who said,
the poor will always be with us;
a man who was heartless
or was he wise?
is the reality of the present,
our cynicism of their plight
or is their struggle
the measure of our hearts in his sight;
is their pain assuaged
by our actions or even in our words?
still we struggle on our own;
our own horizons as far as we can manage,
while we think of a beautiful memory,
distracted by the past,
we hope the leaves have fallen at last
and wait for them to return
but they will only fall again;
like the tide that reaches for the land
or prayers for the things we must;
they will always be with us