Through my eyes I see

Children at play.

Through them still     

I see

All that is ill

And sick with the world;

Who is hurt

Who is cold



Who is living

But dead

To hope

And to chance.

Who don’t sing out with joy,

Who can’t rise up to dance.

Who is silenced

Or forced,

Who has loved,

Who’s divorced

From all that is pure

And upright

And true,

Who kills

And who rapes

Who thrive on

Their hates,

Who seeks,

Who is lost,

Who is maimed

Whose is worse?

No hurt is too small

We all hurt

We fall

And bleed

To be seen

And comforted by

Charity, love;

Love purer than ours.

Through my eyes I see

All that is ill,

In my mind I see

A better life still

For all brothers

And sisters


If but one

Loving as if

A father to son.

In my mind

There is hope for all Man

With my heart

I’ll do all that I can.    

In my naivete

I hope this is true

My heart believes

It’s me and it’s you;

 All in together                                                                         

To weather

The storm

The life that has trials,

This is the norm.

A purer belief

In offering


A hand

And an ear,

An eye,

A mind that is open

To a world full of pain,

A mind that sees


Full of fun

Once again.

We are the children

Ours, the distress

A family that suffers

Shares the load, shares the mess.

4 thoughts on “Sensed”

  1. It effects some people more then others doesn’t it. The way things are in this world, the way they should be, and wondering why we haven’t destroyed ourselves yet?


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