A Walk In New York City

Death holds no prejudice, 

All will be served justice 

Death has no nemesis, 

Not a soul does he miss 

 

When Death paces down the street, 

Lonely people he will meet, 

He shakes their hand and rids their grief, 

Oh, his kindness will never cease!

 

The higher ups will pass them by, 

Refuse to offer their pity or cries 

Look above and observe the sky,

Never to question their reasons why

 

Why ignore those who suffer?

A brother’s pain they refuse to buffer,

God forbid they solace a heartache!
For we don’t fix what we don’t break 

 

But Death in his kindness, 

Intervenes between their affliction,

He whispers in their ears, 

“Peace of mind for your submission?”

 

So compliantly they follow,

Despondent towards tomorrow, 

The promise of His damnation,

Outshines humanity’s condemnation 

 

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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