my heart weeps

my heart weeps
for every tale of injustice
bleeds for the many
that starve

cannot hold all this
it gnaws at my contentment
tells me that it is wrong
to be well

so a well that weeps
and bleeds
and feels helpless
to right so many wrongs

a well whose depth
is measured only by
deliverance

i was carefree, once
but even then
cares were simply
different

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