All across this once bountiful landscape, the less fortunate struggle
scrimping and scraping by on minimum wage.
Character assumptions, accusations of guilt assumed. No recourse, no rebuttal,
only to face an inquisition, in this day and age.
There was a time when one and all were afforded the chance of freedom,
but what we say and what we do, often conflict.
The lady in the harbor, who inspired dreams with her lighted beacon,
welcomes no more, the tired and the poor to our shore; the downtrodden are licked.
what we could have been, and what we became,
a sense of loss and waste; a taste of bitterness.
Given the chance, our aspirations are the same,
yet we can’t seem to settle our differences.
These times can be so unforgiving, so cold and cruel,
without a second thought or notice, we go about our way.
But in every self-absorbed crowd; there’s a diamond in the rough, there’s that jewel,
one who is generous and giving, who brightens someone’s dark day.
An angel of mercy to minister aid, on streets of apathy,
while throngs hurriedly pass by unaware, their minds escaping elsewhere.
How can we dismiss so casually, so much misery,
this congregation of souls, holding on by a wing and a prayer.