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It's more than than obvious.


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I cannot find a title for this one I wrote.

 

 

They watched me as I passed them by.

Glaring stares breathed down my neck.

 

I heard a faint whisper from the crowd.

But I continued walking past them.

 

A hand came out from the shadows.

It held a rusted-tin can and he shook it.

 

But I ignored it and walked by.

I had no time to stop and ask questions.

 

I scurried into the monstrous building.

And walked up the winding stairs.

 

The smell of the Printer’s ink was heavy.

An assistant came in giving me an order.

 

She said “The Boss want you.”

And I proudly walked to the President.

 

She closed the doors behind me.

And he turned around in his chair.

 

A smile on my face, a frown on his.

He spoke those words to me.

 

“I came to you poor and you did not help me.”

I asked him what he meant.

 

“I came to you hungry and you did not feed me.”

I asked if he wanted anything to eat.

 

“I came to you homeless and no shelter was provided.”

Did he need a place to stay?

 

“I came to you completely helpless, and you left me that way.”

I slumped in my chair and dropped my shoulders.

 

“I reached out for you from the stormy waters and you let me drown.”

 

“Why?

 

Completely stunned and shocked I became.

I finally managed to answer him, though.

 

“I did not know you were in trouble, Sir.”

“If you needed anything, you could have asked.”

 

He replied in a soft, sorrowful, disappointed tone.

 

“I stood in the streets on the corner with my can.”

 

“And as you walked by, I shook my noisy tin at you.”

 

“I called out your name and asked ‘Will you help me, please?’”

 

“But you did not answer. You did not turn and look.”

 

“You ignored my call unto you.”

 

“And you came into my Building.”

 

“Why should you stay when you ignored my call?”

 

I couldn’t find an answer.

I should of paid attention.

I should have listened.

 

But I replied, guilt-ridden.

 

“Forgive me, God…”

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