Idle Thoughts

They reach out with hands soaked in mud and hearts forever yearning for the shelter they have never known, hoping against hope that someone would find the courage to look straight into their eyes and acknowledge their existence. We pretend to be oblivious to the faces that peer hungrily at us. We look forward, afraid that turning to look will strike a chord of guilt that may consume us. We wash our hands clean of what has permanently tainted our souls with the indifference we use as our masks to cover the ugliness that lies beneath.

What names were they were born with? Where are their loved ones, and why do they search the streets desperately, remaining hopeful of salvation? Why do they feast on the treasures that we have disposed of, and how can they stomach it when others feast on their flesh?

We carry on with our lives as if we know nothing. We pretend to be blind, deaf and unable to defend their cause. We believe that remaining idle is a neutral act that does not result to further damage. But nothing can repair the shattered glass on the floor of their broken dreams.