Conviction

Wondering if
maybe
the twist
in my gut
is...
real.

Should I be
making
plans to
act on
these
convictions?

Who
cares
if
I
weep
for the
withering rose
wilting
on the
vine?

Big
deal
if I
gasp
at the flashing
image of
hungry
children
and
caged puppies?

What I feel
can fill
my soul,
but
it
won't
heal
gaping
wounds.


Gnawing
unease
strangles
my
breath.

Should I
stand
and shake
off
this
vice
of apathy
for all
of us?

And if
I should
do I
have enough
courage
to
raise a
clenched
fist
and
shout
as
loudly
as
I must?

If I
climb over
this
brown
muddy
earth

and scale the hillside
under a new day
will I find you
beside me

or
will
I
stand
alone?