Pieces Of People Poem by Achim Wollscheid

These people are irate. Hearts are beating at increasing rates;
They go on forever in these temperaments,
Screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing things at walls.
Unruly like beasts, bursting at the seams,
They keep on through the day with faded shine on their faces.
Found in the very desperate places
Of tall towers ready to jump, and hoping they don’t catch flight
Although the world is praying that they will be alright.
These people are tired. Every day they wait to be inspired
But that dream is slowly diminishing, and filtering through their fingers.
It’s hard to see past the foul view that still lingers
In front of the old oceanic sky.
This situation has me tongue-tied. I have worries that I want to trample
And people that I want to save if, with my strength, I am able.
Problems arise because I myself am so compromised.
I constantly watch these saddened lives passing me by
And it truly makes me want to cry.
I want to bend down to pick up the pieces of broken people
Left lying on the ground in heaps, and sourly weep.
Whatever there is to do to rebuild what was lost…
I would do it all; I would reverse and delet the Fall.
These people need direction, they need correction…
If only I could make life back to what was perfection.