What would you do?
When you did not prepare
You lived in a bubble, unaware
Would you watch your family die?
Hunger, pain in your family’s eye

What would you do?
Would you pillage rob steal
Knowing another life you’ll ****
Food needed for the other to survive

They prepared they knew how to stay alive
A life for a life you’re willing to trade
A deal with the Devil nonchalantly made

What would you do?
Kick in your neighbors door
grandmother, the children dead on the floor
So your family need not cry today
Godly, kind people are, easy prey
When you cross that moral line
Breaking God’s Law the ultimate crime

What would you do?
Would you sacrifice one of your own?
For the sake of your existence

Inspired Songs;
1) I am in a hurry by Alabama

2)Too much time on my hands by Styx

3) Fortunate son, by
Creedence Clearwater revival

Infinite journey,  
Arrives, lives, then fades away..
Memory's erased.…

The Illusion of Separation

How can we harbor hate in our hearts,  
When the stars we gaze upon  
Shine upon all,  
A creation of the same endless sky,  
Each soul a flicker of the divine?  
Rumi spoke of love that transcends,  
A bridge to the beloved,  
Where differences dissolve like mist at dawn.  
Plato pondered the forms, the essence,  
A realm where shadows are mere reflections,  
Where truth is a shared light,  
A harmony unseen by eyes alone.

Yet here we are, divided,  
By borders of the mind,  
By lines drawn in the sand,  
Forgetting that the earth beneath us  
Knows no such bounds.  
We speak different tongues,  
We walk different paths,  
But beneath the surface,  
Our hearts beat in unison,  
Our spirits yearn for the same light.

When I say it in the written word
I feel like I am being heard
Maybe not immediately
But at some point in history
The right one will listen to me
And the right time
It will be
For he or she
To hear whatever words from me
And apply them to the life of thee
This is probably
The entire point of poetry
At least, for me

She came with hope, eyes full of dreams,  
For her girl’s bright future, or so it seems.  
The weight of the world on her weary heart,  
Seeking help where she could, doing her part.

The first time, a hand was given,  
To lift her from the dark she was driven.  
The second time, the heartstrings pulled,  
In a world where kindness should never be dulled.

But now, the third time she stands before,  
And you can’t offer what you did before.  
Your own struggles, your own despair,  
Leave you feeling helpless, it’s so unfair.

You see the pain in her tear-stained eyes,  
The desperation, the silent cries.  
She’s knocked on doors, begged and pleaded,  
But at each one, her hopes receded.

Rejected, ignored, turned away,  
Still, she rises, day by day.  
Her girl’s future, a distant star,  
Yet a mother’s love travels far.

You wish you could do more, give again,  
But your hands are tied, you feel the strain.  
Yet know this truth, hold it close,  
Your compassion is a gift, the most.

For sometimes, it’s not the help you give,  
But the understanding, the will to live.  
To feel her pain, to share her plight,  
Is to stand with her in this fight.

So don’t feel useless, don’t feel small,  
You’ve done your part, you’ve answered the call.  
And though you can’t help as before,  
Your empathy, your care—mean so much more.