Millions

by Michaiah Bryan

 Millions are mad

Millions can be wrong

Millions are happy when

the weak

take down the strong

 

Millions fight wars

Millions seek peace

Millions engage in

madness on streets,

city blocks, back alleys

country lanes

Some take responsibility,

Others pass blame

 

Millions are hungry

Millions are sick

Millions need help

that will not arrive quickly

the sickly, the weak

with bleak futures

and wounds that go deeper

than transplants and sutures

 

Millions in darkness

Millions need light

Millions will slip into hell

while thinking they’re alright

without Christ

or at least with some abstract notion,

no true devotion to Him

 

You’re thinking numbers—

I’m thinking faces

Millions of people in

millions of places

 

Apathy so often erases

my memory

 

and eats away

at my credibility

with one…

Let alone,

Millions.

 

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2 Comments

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  1. Dalmond Bodden 10 years ago

    Love it

  2. Dalmond Bodden 10 years ago

    Love it

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