Struggle to Move the World

Fighting for a breath of life

Surrounded by millions of gasping mouths

Selfish, begging for a chance to live.

Hands writhe on top of the mass of bodies

That struggle daily to eat.

As the homeless, cancer victims, institutionalized people,

Depressed, starving, terminally ill,

Addicts, soldiers, abusers and abused

Get on in this world,

They move forward on their own.

Somehow we are expected to reach out,

Make this world feel smaller and safer by trusting each other to help us when we most need help;

To help make life happier and safer,

And death easier to take.

10/18/08

Author's Note

I just made up the title for this. The poem has been around for awhile, nameless. Do you think it fits?

Reviews

[Reese P. Holmes]

I'm not sure I get this poem or its title. The impression I get is that this poem is saying "I can't believe we're supposed to reach out and help each other and trust one another when there's all these bad people out there in the world." Also, the semi-colon should be a comma. The imagery is the strongest part of the poem, but if it's supposed to go along with the general impression I'm getting, it's not doing that for me. I don't know if this one is worth revisiting, but it's interesting to read as a personal history of your writing style.