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Too Little, Too Late
by louis gander A homeless mom - some food can't buy, she looks for work - but I don't cry. I've my career, white shirt and tie. I have my job. I cannot cry. A thirsty boy, with mouth so dry. The streets are hot - but I don't cry. Don't questions ask, and don't ask 'why'. I have my bills. I cannot cry. Handicapped girl, about to die, she goes unseen - so I don't cry. That I don't care - Please don't imply. I'm much too rushed. I cannot cry. The sermons heard week after week - but still no tear runs down my cheek. But I will try, as days go by - some day I'll care and surely cry. How many suffered is unclear. Was selfish I, year after year? One day [before my God] I'll stand - when it's too late to understand. For God shall hear another cry. He'll see another infant die. And then He'll hear and see me try - to bring a tear to my dry eye... 2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Copyright 2021 by louis gander. Poetry for sermons, story poems and more... If you love story poems, then you'll love ganderpoems.org / no ads, no sign-up, no tracking. Just free inspirational poetry. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |