May 14, 2019

For some strange reason I decided to clean out/consolidate my book shelves. While doing so, I found the following and decided to share it. The author is unknown.
The following poem was circulated by a man at the poor peoples rally in Old Town – Albuquerque – New Mexico, and was later printed in “El Papel”
I was hungry
   and you formed a humanities club
   and discussed my hunger. Thank you.
I was imprisoned
   and you crept off
   to your chapel in the cellar
   and prayed for my release.
I was naked and in your mind
   you debated the morality of my appearance.
I was sick
   and you knelt and thanked God for your health.
I was homeless
   and you preached to me
   of the spiritual shelter of God.
I was lonely
   and you left me alone
   to pray for me.
You seem so holy
   so close to God
But I am still hungry
    and lonely
    and cold
So where have your prayers gone?
   What have they done?
What does it profit a man
   to page through his book of prayers
   when the rest of the world is crying for his help.

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