My Diary for Michael

This poem is based on the experience where instead of providing assistance to the needy, people in charge take things for themselves and also try to stifle the progress of others.


Rejected, abandoned to this place
Dwelling in a discarded place
Lying between second-handed sheets
Half-broken bed, chairs and table
Uneven, abandoned and unmatched utensils
With wild and unfriendly insects
Lean and alone we smile together

There are times when the days seem long
Inside this gloomy and humid place
The world outside exists not
Our rhythms are non-traditional
Bathtub is the laundry mart
Laundry deterent is for hands
For hair and also polish for the floor

We create a world of laughter and hopes
Except when the caretaker comes
But how annoying when one finds
Someone who has no desire
But to take away our joy
A large and most unfriendly caretaker
Comes in to see what we are at.

That caretaker with pagan mind
She says she thinks she is God’s chosen
And yet she is a caregiver
It’s rather odd
This time you are charged with indiscipline
I am guilty of poor furnishing
Still she continues to store our needs

With heads like ears of corn, feet like daggers
Who thinks she is too holy and high
Under the cover of our grief
Sneaks and eats offerings at the altar
Yet somehow doesn't think it wrong
To munch through harvest offered
While we must scramble

For human beings only do
What power and greed tell them to.
And always, night and morning, pray,
They are like the church mouse,
Pray and worship in God's own house,
But all the same, it's strange to me
They steal the offering from the altar.