There are things nobody wants to see.
Pain and suffering
Brittle strige and iron sorrow

So they are cast aside and dismissed
Like the man who broke his back
Stone by stone, for a dollar a week

These things are dismissed and forgotten
Like the legless woman
Caught in someone else’s bloodshed

So they are ignored and unseen
Like little children starving
Staring big-eyed in the alleyway

These things are shrouded and lost
Like the old and young falling dead
Riddled by common illness

Eyes are shielded from the world
Pretending everyday is luxiuriant for all
Talking, laughing, walking,
Eating, playing, feeling no pain.
Leaving everyone else to writhe in neglect

Who will be the one to see—
Who will weep and care
To make a difference?