Insecurity
“I need help,” they shout.
But I am reluctant.
“I need help,” they scream.
My eyes shift away.
“I need help,” they blubber
.
But I was not the Good Samaritan who God had looked upon. I did not answer. I was not strong.
For unlike him I am not enough.
So, “No, no difference will I make,” I muttered,
leaving the poor one to blubber, to scream, shout, suffer.
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