It has been more than fifty years,
Since I had been...
Honorably discharged,
From the United States military.
As a young volunteer,
Wanting to perform my civic...
And patriotic duty.
It has been since then,
I realize that the color of my skin...
God blessed me with life given.
That there are many avoiding to refuse,
Volunteering to even pick up a broom...
To clean with a sweeping,
On or around their own neighborhood streets.
Before or after disregarding them to trash.
Yet...
Easily will lie, deceive and cheat.
As if conceived in gutters.
And not between to heat up sheets.
To then believe with a teaching taught,
They deserve entitlements...
Sought to seek to treat and disrespect,
Others who have sacrificed their lives.
With a judging to pass,
On them for whatever it is...
Not enough to do.
While they sit on their butts,
Wishing for luck.
And criticising more folks they choose,
To take for granted...
For their efforts made to endeavor.
"Why is it you do what you do? "
-If it was for my benefit,
You would not be where you are...
To notice.-
"Meaning what? "
-If my priorities,
Were on attention to get.
And being watched.
That would be at the top,
Of my wish list.
Trust me.-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Put down the broom and picked up a pen. Very nice sweep to read this friend.