Human Plight Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Lively as a still wind, faith sits waiting at home's hearth,
searching the land for someone who cares, seeing within
hearts, cold uncaring.

People, homeless, walking in the dark, looking for a corner
to hide in for a few hours to catch some needed sleep.

People not knowing where their next meal will come from, or
how long they'll have to wait for it.

Everywhere there are people in need of basic necessities,
while others sit in their air-conditioned offices, eating
junk food, leaving work to go to a comfortable home.

Living idly every minute, not caring about others, just
pretending nothing is wrong.

Solidly sitting in a solitude of their own making, knowing
life is difficult for many people and still not caring to
raise a finger toward helping another human being.

Strange, life is. People having hearts of gold, standing
firm in their coldness, reflecting the greed they hold
within.

Life cannot enter into compassion, cannot feel the love of
another except through people helping each other.

Therein lies the sadness of our human plight, because no one
cares enough to just reach out in love.