My heart aches not for the poor,
not for the needy, and not for one’s struggling offshore,
but for the helplessness inside me,
not letting me off my comfort,
pulling me back as I try,
reminding me of being just another, self-obsessed social animal.
The rich in their bungalows,
the poor on a move, puzzled out by highs and lows,
I see it all, as I move around,
praising the rich, pitying the poor,
I curse myself, for being so unreal,
and for not letting go the animal inside of me.
Black coded in my mind resides the night,
traveling to my town, waiting for the daily flight,
a suited man came up to me, asked for some change,
to use the phone-booth, has driven me insane – he explained,
immediate I was to give him some change,
helped a man, thought it was great!
A similar night, a different story,
came up to me, a wretched man,
to resisting him, I moved slowly,
took sometime to give away the worthless penny,
but delighted I was to see the cheered man,
and sad, disheartened, for why I took much time.
The realization then struck me,
that I was running away,
not from the poor, but his misery,
that I was attracted,
not to the rich, but to his suit,
that I need to change, for I am no animal, but a man of my own deeds.