RESIDUE (Another poem for the signs of our times!)

RESIDUE

(28 May, 2017)

Tell us why do so many want all that money?

Does it stop rain; make things again all sunny?

What good is great wealth?

With drought, storms or a wavering, fragile health?

So many luxurious goods to perish in floods.

I dreamed I couldn´t clean off the waste,

Of an innocent very young baby, one to embrace.

Some relatives tried to help and there were some advances.

I woke to a day of overwhelming needs,

Trying to do what I can, continuing to plead.

Believiing so firmly in a higher mandate.

Now, where o where, is that blank check to ward off fate?

                 By: Karla