I die inside
Just a little
Every time I am faced
With the inner fears
Of my friends
Who cannot bring themselves
To help others in need…
I have two friends
Each young men
Struggling in the darkness
Just to have a place
To live
While going to school
And no plea
I send out
Comes back answered
When I know that there
Is enough abundance
For us all.
If the house I was in
Was my own
I could do more…
One is an upstanding
Senate member
Who is staying up
All night at Leela's
European café
Then slumbers
While the world
Rubs the sleep out
Of its eyes.
The other
Is a brilliant
Theatrical Genius
Who's filing for
Section 8 housing
In the same lines
Unwanted pregnant
Mothers do,
And he,
As a white male
Won't have
A chance to get
Ahead.
People say
I inspire them
And a little part
Of my ego inflates
To hear this
But then
When I call out
As an advocate
For these men
And none
Answer the call
I die inside
Just a little…
And I wonder
How many times
I can handle
These little deaths
Before I am
The same
As everyone else.
