Hear Their Cry

Written in 1994 after reading The Cage, by Ruth Minsky Sender

Sleepless souls, wandering the world,
Moaning their sorrows out to all.
Does anyone care?
Does anyone hear their pleas?
Reach out your hand,
Vibrant and full of life and join together hands.
Their decaying, twisted, gnarled hands of death
Are straining to reach
They are using their last ounce of strength
To join life and death together.
Then you pull away.
Death crumbles to the floor
And becomes the dust you walk upon.