On a golden spring day the streets are silent.
If this was a foreign land and I a refugee
This would be what exile felt like.
Somewhere children are crying, babies screaming,
In Africa, they are dying of starvation
But we, caring only for our next flit to the pub, prior social engagement or quick grab of toilet roll,
Forget what life is like outside our own parameters.
Take a moment to think outside the box,
Look through the window and reflect within.
We would all be better people, if we took time to think in the here and now of those
Worse of than ourselves and what we are able to do to help them
I am grateful to have a roof over my head, and people who care about me.
There are many who don’t. So lend a hand, say a prayer, for the homeless, refugee, elderly, or vulnerable,
Set those spirits free.