Morning Thoughts on Mourning, A Poem

It’s breakfast time
eggs and sweet potato hash
sit upon the table,
the steam rises
and I can’t help
but wonder
what’s on everyone’s table
at breakfast time.
I know the world’s not easy
in times of war
nor even in times of peace
and some – go hungry
I wish that I could feed
every hungry heart
I wish I could heal
every wound that bleeds
but I – often can do nothing
I eat and feel guilty
for how many times
has my treasured sleep
been severed by artillery
but that is someone’s life
someone’s story
and I can’t help but sometimes
read between the lines
and feel the pain that resides
between things that are unsaid
because their voice is stolen
it rarely makes it on tv.
I tremble at the thought
of others’ suffering
where wounds lay bare
and others look the other way
for your skin is not my skin
and your kin is not my kin
so I don’t care
and if I do, I pretend not to see
but that’s not me –
I spend moments at breakfast
pondering these things
and it would be the gravest lie
to say I never think of them
in all the moments in between.

(c) Sumyanna 2016

 

Photography courtesy of Morguefile

Advertisements

2 Comments Add yours

  1. you have a beautiful heart… i do feel guilty for my indulgences …one can only pray and hope …touching write Sum…love hugs

    Like

    1. sumyanna says:

      Trust me when I say you are not alone. We all have so much more than many but often do forget. Sometimes we just need to be reminded to be thankful – and to share, when we can. Love you Seema!

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s