When I Think About The World

When I Think About The World

A Poem by adetailedflameofpurestjoy

Sometimes, when I think about the world,

it makes me want to cry:

for all the homeless people

we pretend we didn’t see

out of the corner of our eye,

for the neglected children

and the outcasts,

for the people who believe

that they have nothing to do with any of that,

for anyone who is silently suffering,

terrified and confused,

for everyone who feels like

they have nobody to turn to.

And I can’t help but feel at fault-

like it’s my duty to save them all,

like I could just wave a magic wand

and spare them of all the mental

cuts and bruises

that will appear when they fall.

But mostly I wish

that I could tap into the minds

of people who don’t care about

any of this at all:

of people who always have

better things to do

than to stop and listen

to what other people have been through

and of the people who are the cause

behind the effect,

the reason why these people

are broken and wrecked

because I want to know why

these people can destroy

another human being

and think that’s fine.

I want to know why

for us to finally care about one another

it takes having to die;

why can’t we all join together

while we’re still alive?

I’ve been wondering

If it’s ever going to stop

because all this senseless hatred

has been going on

for centuries too long

and it’s alright saying

“I need to put myself first.”

But I’m sure you’ve needed help

when you were at your worst

and I can’t understand why it’s so hard

for us to show some basic human compassion

and lend a helping hand-

I wonder how long it’s going to take

for us to learn how to love

and forget how to hate.


© 2016 adetailedflameofpurestjoy



My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

[send message][befriend] Subscribe
Liz
The words you have shared here speak so deeply and symmetrically to how I think about the world around me, so this hit me hard. There are times I sit and think about those homeless people, the ones who have been hurt, the ones who are hated, etc. and I, too, feel that guilt; because why is it okay for me to be living a "quality" life when there are people out there who don't even have a GLIMPSE of a "quality" life? I am so glad you wrote this.

Posted 8 Months Ago


I think at times the perpetual onslaught of horror fed to us by the media makes us numb to the suffering of others. We choose to become insular....or we go mad with pain over the plight of others. There is no middle ground for so many of us.

Posted 1 Year Ago


I ask the same questions dear Poet.
"I wonder how long it’s going to take
for us to learn how to love
and forget how to hate."
I pray we learn soon. We must get along for the sake of the children. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

Posted 1 Year Ago


Advertise Here Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5
It is said that we can not love others if we can not love ourselves first...makes sense in a lot of ways...poignant piece :)

Posted 1 Year Ago


This is such a beautiful poem. I agreed with every word. People nowadays are filled with hatred so much so they are bursting from the seams. Fighting fire with fire, never ends with love, it only ends with hate. I've been through so much pain in my life, and reading your words makes my heart ache... Knowing what it feels like to hurt makes you want to help anyone who might be feeling what you felt. I want to turn all of those painful feelings that anyone is feeling and turn them into things they FELT. This unnecessary cycle of animosity needs to end.

Posted 1 Year Ago


i learned long ago,,the people that can help wont !
and the people that will help,can`t
this is worth pondering.the bible says the poor will always be amongst us,Why !
it seems the poorest of people are closest to God !
the rich and famous are closest to Satan ,again Why !
i guess suffering is what we`re supposed to do

Posted 1 Year Ago



Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

277 Views
6 Reviews
Rating
Added on January 11, 2016
Last Updated on January 11, 2016

Author

adetailedflameofpurestjoy
adetailedflameofpurestjoy

Manchester, United Kingdom



About
My name is Laura, I am 21 and I write poetry to understand life. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Windy Windy

A Story by Samuel Dickens