STONED SENSES


When I look out my window... destruction laugh in my face;

I watch people walk by... lost within themselves
Calling out for help in many different ways.
I saw the young girls calling for help in their behavior, their clothes
and in locked of self-worth.
I heard the young boys howl for help in the street corners selling drugs,
in the gang bangers' and the bullied's bawl for acceptance 
I smell the mother scream for help in the drugs and the alcohol that is killing their children.
I felt the elderly cry for help in the pain reflected in their eyes, because after devoting their lives to the sustention of their family they’re now forgotten.
I taste the community call for help in my tears…
The world doesn't seems to see, hear, smell, touch, or taste
We all can make a difference but our senses are stoned by indifference

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