conscience

a dark, grey being
that resides in a barrel
sometimes tumbles
through my fragile heart

appears to spook out
the goodness of the world
brings with it hints of sorrow
to remind me that the world
is not perfect
that a person died today
because of the color of his skin
or the hat he wore...
the symbol on his arm

that a child is alone tonight
in a shelter
or on a street
carrying a gun
to protect his little brother

sometimes i allow
this grey being to linger
to deepen my conscience

the pain of the world
is all of ours to bear