How sad their pallid faces and their cries,
from dehydration - they shed not a tear.
And we think we’re all-knowing and so wise
to everything . . . so happily we jeer
about how much we own, our egos swell
with pride, and we think all is good and well.
We laugh and grin as pretty as you please
while hunger lingers on. No one can stave
deep moans of sorrow nor such depth of pain,
nor fill their baskets with the bread they crave.
It might as well be pouring crimson rain!
"We have no food to share, we have no pies,
to give to God-forsaken throngs of mere
human debris," they said, with sad goodbyes
while marching for the whale, they shout and cheer
ignoring pleas where hungry spirits dwell.
They chant for animals, a sacred knell
endowing them with rights, even the flees!
No dignity is left, and man’s a slave
as one who’d work for just a single grain.
How will starvation make a soul behave?
It might as well be pouring crimson rain!
Cold-blooded, outstretched hands speak naked lies,
an offering to God, so sweet and dear.
Shout hallelujah choruses, the prize
is heaven knocking on your door - as near
as writing on the wall if you can spell
correctly and the truth you always tell.
It’s just a matter of a few degrees.
How can you turn your heart away, then rave
about your faith; perhaps - it’s all in vain,
that rod of righteousness you love to wave.
It might as well be pouring crimson rain!
Speak softly as the whole world slowly dies
of selfishness and greed by those who sneer
and castigate. We should apologize
for heaping all unto ourselves with clear
and crystal vision, but it seems we’d sell
our souls before their misery we’d quell.
Pay farmers not to grow more corn and peas!
The cost of living soars, so we can rave
and blame it all on those who rule and reign
and boast about how very much we gave.
It might as well be pouring crimson rain!
The moon is blood, I’m falling to my knees.
I hope that angels dwell among my pleas.
I fear the whole world may have gone insane.
I pray the road to peace that God might pave.
Anne Bryant-Hamon
Copyright © 1997