The Bowl And The Spoon

i hear the sound of humanity's voices, the sound of suffering and need. i smell the fear, and i feel the anger, of those left alone, the victims of greed. i feel the hate of the guns and the bombing, the terror of women and children. i cry the tears and shed blood with them, i hear the prayers of the dead for the living. i feel the hunger of children left starving, i am the anger of the unemployed in line. i breathe the despair of those left homeless, i am the hope of those looking for a sign. i am the body that somehow god needed, i am the ears the lonely pray for. i am the eyes that see through the heart, the prisoner walking through the last door. i hear the sound of the baby crying, i feel the mother walking across the room. i am the father praying for work, i am the bowl and i am the spoon.