You appeared to me so pure of heart back then, a pure soul friend, your face etched in my minds eye. Same diagnosis we shared.
Yet the stranger on the street of New Street hit home to me, your reality of fate.
I watched all standing round in one mass collective, looking on, watching on, helping not that poor man, the stranger on the street of New Street. Bar only one man. His life mattered to me as everyone’s life matters to me.
Was this the same fate for you, I asked myself back then as I ask myself now, were on lookers watching on for as they were fir the stranger on the street of New Street.
But as my eyes saw the fullness of people’s reactions in this reality, with their feet stuck to the pavement watching on in that street at New Street.
For though I attempted to help this stranger at new street, I ask myself then & now was it enough?
Only one man asking on, what’s your name tell me your name? For although, I asked all the employee’s with orange vests with their radio’s who stood outside to help refusal lay at my feet. All watching on with radio’s, they all put blocks in my wake and refused to hear my plea.
Argue with them time afforded not, yet I knew the Uniformed men were under cover of New Street, and one uniformed Man heard my call, my plea for this mans life, this stranger on the street of New Street.
To you both, I ask my souls- forgiveness, for I could not assist in holding your hands, even though I wished to,
So to the man, the stranger on the street around New Street, I hope the seeds of action came to your aide. For all souls matter and are worthy in my eyes. I hope that man who was talking to you was of comfort to you.
Though with this question I still come back to you my dear friend, whose fate in his last moments here on this physical plain, that strangers were helping you through your final moments of passing.
Copyright Myfanwy 2019
Posted in: Poetry/ Ancient Traditions