Selective Illness

The greatest sorrow found in life is neither war nor hunger
It does not lie in beaten hands or those of the oppressor
It does not follow death or pain, though its dwelling can be near it
It can be found in many homes, though its residence is elsewhere

No, the greatest tragedy cannot be genocide or prejudice
Or lie with the imprisoned
Yes, the greatest crime to human kind
Lies in those who o'r look all this

poem by Christine Errett
Added by Poetry Lover
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Slake

For sane closure of what was and never is-
and was still is; — though is never was… it—
dark fire black light blissful remorse sorrow's delight
black fire darkened light blissful sorrow remorseful plight
clever anguish, smart your sting, sorrows left though more you bring
leave my stay and march your dirge, happy lies be blissful purge
trustful boast that is it— is what wasn't was— as it is never as was—is
doubtful dream is what it is—what was wasn't, though is can be

poem by Christine Errett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!