We do not want to hear their their poignant calls

Everything is whirling round my mind,
The lack of government ,  the words unkind
That the poor are  short of food and  clothes
We deny it, everybody knows

Sudden gusts of wind  mock  these old trees
Does the  lure of nature  disappear
When  the butterflies have gone away
Yet the stinging wasps are here to stay?

Once tortured  now abandoned refugees
Can’t make phone calls,  have no mental ease
We make our own defences into walls
We  do not want to hear their their poignant calls

Oh,Lord God take the beam from out my eye
I want to know the  truth before I die

Photo by Gerhard Lipold on Pexels.com

Find the very worst in some poor man

Unexpressed emotions never die.
We hurt the ones we “love “without a sigh
We fall downstairs and break a bone or ten
We find the worst in all the hopeful men

So now the awful feelings have increased
Someone else is joyful at the feast
We sulk and mope or crack the china mugs
Break our ankles stumbling on the rug

Now we blame the others for our pain
Why did noone notice yet again
We are not the centres of their world
Too proud to say we’re sad in a few word

Decent friends will give us words that heal
If we show emotion, show we feel