the unforgiven

The un-forgiven

By james a. galgano

In the middle of a rhyme comes a thought quite unforgiving

Within each nameless faces we daily meet on the streets living

On the outskirts of all hope, they find a way to carry on to each tomorrow

Survival is not for the fittest but for those who beg steal or borrow

In search of a glimmer of some redeeming light which guides their way

Through each trial tribulation and sorrow that falls upon them far from grace

Which knows each name upon every unforgettable face filled with a history

Quite forgotten to all unable to realize but for the grace of some unnamed deity

They might also find themselves to be as these memorable lives falling through

The cracks of passing time often resigned to live through each morrow incomplete

Left to trod alone almost unnoticed but for the passing glances eyes hesitantly meet

While rushing quickly by seeming to escape for fear upon connection they may contract

A similar disease or plight by mere touch or proximity what fools these mortals be

Captives of their own awkward ignorance or cruel disdain they are not their keepers

Silently they rationalize to justify what they cannot logically explain while in flight

For out of such sightless minds, they flee on their own way into darkness out of sight

Leaving souls, no less lost then they now declare themselves by their own inaction to be

There within a middle of a rhyme a thought as unforgiving my guilt shares responsibility