Not my Concern

narrative poem tissue warning

 

Not my concern

 

The night was dark and damp and cold.

The match girl’s matches still unsold.

The passers by ignored her pleas

 what she was selling failed to please.

 

An orphan child without a home.

 By circumstances forced to roam

She earns enough to pay her way

 but not today, but not today.

 

Ill clad in rags and frozen through

her tiny hands and feet are blue.

The freezing rain turns into snow

The match girl has nowhere to go.

 

Without money, she cannot buy

 a night in somewhere warm and dry.

She tries in vain to sell her wares

 Without success, nobody cares.

 

The falling snow was getting deep

and still she had no place to sleep.

 Although she tried in vain to find

some shelter from the freezing wind.

 

This was the night the match girl died.

They found her frozen stiff beside

 the local convents well barred door.

The little Sisters of the Poor.

 

Had not been very sisterly.

 Ignored the orphans misery

because they did not choose to see.

 Now kindly death has set her free.

 

No longer needs the charity

 which they denied so easily

 by pious women who profess

 to proffer aid to the helpless.

 

I do not claim to be guilt free

 but I make no pretence to be

a Little sister of the poor

 and let a child freeze at my door.

 

I am quite sure they will

deny any responsibility

and call her death an accident.

They could nothing to prevent.

 

I should not judge but feel I must

express my feelings of disgust

That this child was allowed to die

for lack of Christian charity.

 

Although this happened long ago

There’s very little changed I know.

We’re still prepared to pass them by

 and care not if they live or die.

 

We can pretend they don’t exist

 an attitude which will persist

As long as we don’t choose to see

 They’re our responsibility.

 

12-Aug-08

Reviews

[Windy]

Extremelly sad in several ways... You did a wonderful job with the flow and rhyme, very well written. It is true, times have not changed, people still do not see, or turn a blind eye to someone in need. I liked how you entered into it that you would not be like those before, would not let a child die at your door. The write is very intense and meaningful. Maybe, just maybe you will reach someone and they will not let a chld die at their door either. Congratulations on a excellant write.

[Sel Whiteley]

This is a very strong poem reinforced by his its almost sloganeered rhyme and your right take in an interest in the poor is very important. I volunteer for the homeless and the reasons why people end of this situation are varied but 40% grew up in care. A very compassionate poem, Sel