One Of Them

There’s so much hunger around,
Bruised hands, paws,
Pleading eyes, broken backs,
Man, animal none exempted,
From the fire that rages in the stomach,
To turn away I figured is the easiest thing to do,
And the hardest too,
It preys on the mind, weighs on the heart,
It makes me weak in so many ways,
It starves the soul of kindness,
And leaves me as famished as if I were one of them.

Photo courtesy - The Song Of The Sufi Masroof