Why do people crush to the ground,
the broken chips already down?
Sharp heels that grind with commanding force,
pressing into the earth without remorse.
They ignore and pretend not to hear the plead,
of those in trouble and in great need.
Not a word of kindness just to say,
I know you’re struggling, are you okay?
Those you thought would have your back,
when you find yourself under attack.
But when you look, hardly no one is there,
Does death have to loom for them to care?
What once moved people, no longer does,
a new mindset, now trumps what was.
I wish that people could really see,
how very different things could be.
The lonely silence and absence of sound,
a stark reality, no one is around.
Would they recall those crushed to the ground?
when the broken chips were already down.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall