My ink flows like the surface of our ocean-front views,
I make waves when my mind surfs but will this make the news?
My aim is at our built-up walls of sanity.
We mask the truths of this world but I welcome us to reality.
You see, world affairs stretch beyond our windowsills and porches,
People sitting pretty in hundred thousand Porsches.
Kids on the street; nowhere to go, nothing to eat.
Memories of his parents killed on his mind, no shoes on her feet.
This is just unreal.
I pray my words strike hearts with the utmost of fervor,
I hope to overwhelm minds like the single parent, underpaid server-
How do you do it?
Feel what this world feels and maybe exit our cocoons,
Wrapped up safely, protected from bomb-blast ruins.
Open our eyes.
When my pen hits the pad, I got my goal on my mind-
To illustrate unseen struggles; fill us in line by line.
I care to infiltrate purposely sheltered perspectives,
To show us that this world hosts a complex set of directives;
Blood thirsty hate drains our collapsed veins dry.
I write because we take for granted every drop of water wasted,
We frown at leftovers for dinner- living lofty lives, no care for what the poor faces.
Our concern is house and cars, fresh suits and living like the stars.
Imagine: Not a single hope to wake up breathing, unhealed scars,
Not a crumb to taste, no water, no shelter, no light, no clothes, no place to bathe.
Only hope, hands held high, love and faith.
Walk a mile in those shoes, don't hesitate
To leave our comfort zones- our self-centered galaxies,
To experience the unbearable, To accept these stark realities.
Let us peer into the lives of others, bound to be humbled,
May we act on what is real, lend a hand to rebuild lives crumbled.
My pen traces my thoughts, left to soak on untouched canvas.
For eyes to absorb and minds to ponder, to launch a movement- hoping we can land this.
To renew outlooks and catalyze actions,
To chisel sculptures of what is unfelt and not experienced.
To teach that just because it doesn’t affect us immediately doesn’t mean there’s no effect.
To hope that we’ll realize actuality - sit and recollect
That it’s our duty to learn to care and see what is real,
To push for change and help to heal.
This is why I write.