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Poems On / About SYMPATHY  8/1/2014 11:29:59 PM
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  77.     

My Heart Bleeds (98)

I fancy I can hear the sufferers moaning
The starving woman and the dying man
The malnourished children with the hunger blown pot bellies
My heart bleeds for the people of Sudan.

But these people they need far more than sympathy
They need food and care and medicine right away
They have eaten the seeds that they had to be planted
And hundreds die of hunger every day.

For life's small blessings I ought to be thankful
For I am one who doesn't have cause for moan
Compared to many I feel very privileged
The pangs of hunger I have never known.

One of my neighbours never stops complaining
He grumbles by life he is hard done by
But he looks overweight from over eating
And of malnutrition he will never die.

And another I know he tried to take his own life
Because his girlfriend left him he is in despair
I feel more pity for those dying of hunger
For a broken heart is not beyond repair.

In a Land ravaged by disease drought and hunger
To live to thirty years seen as a lengthy span
And my sympathy is with the starving millions
The hungry and the homeless of Sudan.
 
Francis Duggan

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  78.     

Cognizance

Since I was cognizant about Life and Living
My contemplations took all spins and leap
Deeds took a long haul of transformations
Introspection took me to great serenity
And I reached the level of equanimity in Life.

My experience of discontent and distress
Which I presumed with ‘self-sympathy’
That’s where I went wrong in my judgment
It’s ‘self-respect’ that showed my ‘self esteem’
Turned those sympathy to empathy in Life

I am not what the world construes me to be
My ecstasy and grief are not exterior made
I perceived my inner voice and its power
I have someone inside to guide me
I am the blessed one who hears voice within.

Living beings eat, move, sleep and die
We, human beings who can think in addition
But do we think as much as we eat, move and sleep?
If we are pensive, we know how exceptional we are!
Employ this virtue, contribute to mankind and be a Man.

-vidi-
01-02-08
 
Vidi Writes

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  79.     

Conversion

Overcast expression on pale skin, black glazed eyes,
obliviously sat
upright against the side of an old, stone church.

His hanging cheeks
his navy-blue Puffa jacket, warped around him,
his fingerless gloves untwitching in his lap...

Humans click past,
resplendent
their bouncing bags held tight,
heading to Marks and Spencers or the Colosseum.

The church drowns in his skant breath,
a sinking, extinct volcano
of illusory aid.

Regretfully caught in careless eyes
he doesn’t evoke sympathy,
- sympathy requires effort -

he is no more than half of the image:
a tramp by a converted church.
 
Borret Yarn

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  80.     

Darling Mother! - By Kitty Cotton 10 Years Old.

A poem written by my great niece, Kitty Cotton, who is 10 years old, for her Mother on Mother’s Day.


Darling Mother,

You care and love me with all your soul,
You feed me even though I can be a messy pup!
I love you so much,
Your love and sympathy is all I ask for.

But on that special day I’m going to give you
something.
No, not chocolates or flowers,
No, not make-up and bag,
Something more important, something you gave me
and I’m giving back.

It is my love and sympathy.

Love you lots

Tuns of love, your daughter
KITTY
XXXXXXXX
 
Ernestine Northover

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