[Stylist] poem

[anniecms64 at gmail.com]

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Poverty of the Soul

By Ann Chiappetta

 

Come, come to me

Rake the soul with the shame of slavery

Lend your arm of justice to those who weep

Drag the scalpel of righteousness, blood welling, deep.

Cry, cry for me

the citizen

The sister, the victim, the mother, the old one, the immigrant, the child

Lift the prison, the poverty 

Infecting the collective mind

 

Pray, pray with me

skin on knees thinned and bruised by please

intended to Reach ears on High

Where hope falls like rain between numb fingers of sky.

 

2021

 

 

 

 

 

Ann Chiappetta, Author

Anniecms64 at gmail.com

` Making meaningful connections with others through writing `

 

914.393.6605

www.annchiappetta.c <http://www.annchiappetta.c/> om Facebook Annie
Chiappetta

"We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is
waiting for us." 

*	 Joseph Campbell

 

 

 

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