a cross nailed to my form
pointing down and across
is often there though not seen.
i feel for the animals as we steal their domain,
i feel for the trees we cut down upon which to write mispelled words of emptiness,
i feel for the waters we pollute, yet deny we are even doing so,
i feel for the sky we fill with fossil fuel but think the sky is endless,
i feel for the earth we litter with our waste too lazy to consider the packaging or bin,
i feel for the children that have such poor role models,
i feel for the elderly as to many they are invisible or are not cared for,
when i prostrate and feel the shame of a shameless society,
my soul bleeds into each cup from which you drink.
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
copyright © 2007