I cannot breathe

A sadness sits over me.
Anxiety tightens my heart.
Like a hangman’s noose.
I cannot breathe.

Drawn back to my childhood.
Of scary moments ingrained.
I saw what others didn’t.
Then too I couldn’t breathe.

I saw my father’s burden.
Five mouths to feed and clothe.
I constantly worried. I watched.
When I couldn’t breathe,
I escaped into my dreamscape.

Today, I am over whelmed.
Videos sent to me.
More forwarded to me.
Of suffering; of destitution.

It increases during Advent.
And now another Advent is here.
Prompting my conscience.
I see destitution; suffering.

Homeless and marginalized.
Hungry, dirty and sick.
Shunned, avoided at all cost.
Too many. Where does help start?

Poverty spreads like wildfire.
Soup kitchens spring up.
Like mushrooms they grow.
Feeding the poor, endlessly.

Take a look at nursing homes.
The aged abandoned in these.
Orphanages full to the brim.
And shelter homes short of beds.

You help one, another ten waiting.
Endlessly the hands reach out.
My heart is pounding. Suffocating.
Anxiety tightens. I cannot breathe.

By C.E. Pereira
(6-12-2018)

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