Hypocrisy

  

Neil Harding McAlister

 

 

          A rocky desert stretches far

            To distant mountains, brown and bare.

            A waif, abandoned in the dust,

            Wipes flies out of her matted hair.

            Her threadbare misery we see,

            A poignant vignette on TV,

            So aged beyond her seven years!

            The interviewer swallows tears.

 

            In her short life she’s known no life

But death and war.  Now all alone,

            This dolly never clutched a doll,

            She’s never had a loving home.

            A war-embittered TV host

            Asks this poor wretch what she wants most,

            And strains to hear what she has said.

            One plaintive word she whispers: “Bread.”

 

            From half a world away we watch,

            Warm, fat voyeurs in safe, clean homes.

            Our indignation is a sham,

            Decrying pain that’s not our own.

            Though we condemn with righteous rage

            Injustice in the modern age,

            Words without deeds shall always be

            Contemptible hypocrisy.

 

            God damn our nations! damn our flags!

            And damn religion, every creed!

            In pained disgust God turns His back

            On men inured to this child’s need.

Whatever pious words we say,

            Our empty words won’t wipe away

            The tears of children, forced to dwell

            In our world’s bitter, man-made hell.      

       

 

2001, Neil Harding McAlister

Email contact:  neilmac “at” durham.net