What do you allow yourself to really see?
—
He was there
yet he was not,
looked
but ignored,
as hundreds of shiny shoes
walked passed him every day,
while he sat in the corner of this wall
on the ragged piece of cloth,
right in the middle of the bustling city,
where rarely anyone even bothered to take pity,
or say hello, after all, his humanity
is not to be acknowledged, we should know.
We go about not acknowledging it every day,
have become so immune to others’ suffering,
and looking away.
So there came a day
when gone was the man
with only his ragged cloth left behind,
as a marker, perhaps, of our ragged souls
and ragged minds.
Previously published in Indiana Voice Journal
Photo: GettyImages
Why is it that I am reading so much support and care about men from women in countries where they are often times treated lesser then cattle. Why do these women care more about American men then do American women? I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how those so harmed can have so much love while those so pampered and placated to cannot. That is not an indictment of all American woman, there are so many good one’s out there still. It is but a note of praise for women such as this. Your poem was beautiful, but only… Read more »