Lesser Poem by T.S. Wilkins

I watch how society watches him—
This being on display
Society—The audience of selfish thinking
For sorrow’s great taunting play.

He plays the lesser character
In this world;
An outcast of creation
The one they say will never receive
A thunderous standing ovation,

For they do not care
Just how he hangs
Off the edge of a troubled life
Dangling there while he slowly loses
His grip on his will to fight.

They turn their heads
When he speaks to them,
Not a word have they to say
When he reaches out
His hand to them,
They turn their backs away.

I’ve watched them
As they’ve laughed at him,
Like Kings and Queens they stand
And some will sit in holy places
As the first to shout AMEN-!

But what have they to shout this for,
When in their hearts they’ve lied—
For by the rules that Love has given,
I’ve seen them not abide.

Yet…

This lesser character hangs on still
Despite what he receives from them
And goes on caring
For a cruel, cruel world
That will never care for him.

He’s dangling there;
A helpless soul
Just watching them pass him by,
But he hangs on there
To what he knows
And gathers the strength to try…

To try to live,
To try to love
To try to make it through
To try to give
What his heart’s made of..
To do what love would do.

And in this place
I call my soul,
I pause to shed a tear
And I pray that
The seed of hatred
Is never planted here,

For I too want the kind of love,
That however life shall be
Still I want to care for those,
That shall never care for me.

~T.S. Wilkins~