
| AID
Author: sapadu How do we view those who need us when it matters the most?
Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Angst - Words: 293 - Published: 09-01-12 - id: 3055094
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AID
I'm flying, I'm free
I have the wings –
Strong enough to carry me
but more fragile than you think.
The breeze or wind makes me struggle
but not fall.
I am strong –
But not enough,
not enough to withstand a tempest.
It hits me like the hand of God –
like the car whose wind
blows a dragonfly off course and to the pavement.
I'm stranded, I'm trapped
my wings –
Only gossamer that can break
I can't save myself.
Help me,
I know you're right there.
You saw me batted down
saw the whole thing, and now you watch –
You, who are so much bigger
so much stronger
it would be so easy for you to help.
I don't need much –
Just a hand
Scoop
me out of the street,
to the shelter of the gutter,
or the grass.
Not to the sky, just to safety.
But why should you?
I'm just –
a stranger,
a bum,
a wrong choice,
so far away.
What if a car hits me while I help?
You think.
It's not your fault
that I flew out,
and of course I would be tossed
by the winds of God.
You knew that.
How could I not know that?
But how was I supposed to know –
I can't see, I can't know
is it my fault I'm so small?
So you watch, and think
oh, no harm will come
they'll manage
somehow –
Until your bus comes
and it has to go into the gutter.
That's just how it had to be
it was only natural
not your fault
you couldn't have done anything.
You think.
And I can do nothing
as the tire –
the final act of God
comes.
Crush.
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