“In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no-one sees you, but
sometimes I do, and
that sight becomes this art.”
― Rumi

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

a question

hungry boys
dark skinned
weeping

weeping boys
skinned in hunger
dark

dark boys
weeping skin
hungry

the truth
(anyway I look at it)
leaves me ashamed
of my comfortable life

then why do I
cling to apathy
in the midst of my shame,
choosing mere words over
selfless acts of
kindness?

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