I Know

I know, that you’re tired; I know, that you’re anxious;

I know, that your tolerance is low.

I know, that you’re angry; I know, that you’re weeping;

I know, that your mother left you, long ago.

I see how this world conspires to ruin you;

how it just seethes, with crime and with sin.

I know that to see and to feel it, within you,

means the poison starts working within.

But think of the millions who need this, your message;

think of those without the power of voice;

think of the lonely, of the asthmatic, of the stolen;

think of those, who have no choice.

Heed then, their sorrow, their questionable allegiance;

give them at least, some hope with which to bear

the rancid, the gory, the traumatic and the hollow:

the voice that is strong is the one that is near.

*

From "Buddha's Broken Fingernail" by Daniel Viragh.

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