Outcry (Poetry)

The prayers of all the lost and lonely people
rise up like a fine mist around the world
they cloud the moon and dim the light of planets
their sadness a grey wispy layer curled

The sensitive can see it, feel it, taste it ...
know it is the failure of us all
the heartless just ignore the taint of suffering
dismiss it as pollution’s random pall

But those cries are out there now — part of the ether
and once uttered they can never be unsaid
the Earth a top spun blue on human sorrow
while hatred whips its long war-knotted thread