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And We Cry And Complain…And we cry and complain of our trials, And tribulations and of strife, Yet here we have in all its glory, The saddest heart rendering life… …The life of Mr John Merrick, And other people of similar form, Who differ in all of their ailments? And who are on show for us to adorn! We look around the world that we live in, And we complain of things so pathetic, When there are other people out there, Who have problems which are oft genetic! But some complaints are not genetic, They are born this way, and we know not why, All I know tonight, as I write these words, The sights I see make me cry. How is it so that things so bad… Can happen to people like you and me, Terrible afflictions, awful sadness, And pain that is plain see! We look around at the world we live in, And see such sad and sorrowful sights, They stay on my mind, most every day, And comes between my sleep at nights! How do they deal with, how do they cope? With the afflictions given to them to bear! How do they really feel inside? And does anyone even care? Ridiculed, tormented and name called, Like ‘freak,' and ‘'elephant man' and ‘clown!' Laughed at most very constantly, And always, always pulled down! Made to feel like freaks in a show, Belittled most constantly, But they have hearts and feelings too, Just like you, and just like me! Who gives the right to mock! And to name call and goad and torment! Who gives the right to do all that! For it was certainly not heaven sent! Why do these people suffer so? What is the reason? For I can't see! All I know is this, my heart is broken, By the images presented to me! But yes they should be shown, But not for people to mock and stare, For always, always remember… One day that could be us stood there! But for now I will open my mind, And bring about thoughts in my head, And pray for the ones with affliction… For prayers help - the more they are said! And we cry and complain and moan, Over pathetic things every day! But no matter what and no matter when, For those we should always pray! And next time you mock the afflicted, Keep this thought in your head… For one day soon it may be you out there, Lying in a gutter, deserted and dead! There But For The Grace Of God Go We! Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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