Yet You Say You Love?

You shun the man who has nothing-

shooting glares of disapproval across a crowded street.

Yet you say you Love?

You walk by the man in the gutter who is crying out for life, holding on by his fingernails to exist not knowing why.

Yet you say you Love?

You look at hungry children on television and wonder why they show such things without an ounce of compassion in your heart- not recognizing their vulnerability.

Yet you say you Love?

You speak of those who are different in color from you as if they are nothing, as if they are below you on your self proclaimed pedestal.

Yet you say you Love?

You walk in four hundred dollar shoes, stepping over those who lie huddled in boxes and you complain of the "litter" on the street.

Yet you say you Love?

You condemn the waitress for not being fast enough, good enough, smiling enough -- she is stupid you say.

Yet you say you Love?

You sit on the train while the pregnant woman stands, swollen feet, grabbing onto the rail to save herself from falling. She's invisible to you.

Yet you say you Love?

You throw anyone who doesn't meet your expectations into a melting pot, classifying them as beneath you. They are not smart enough. They are inhuman to you.

Yet you say you Love?

You believe in one thing -- yourself. You have no faith, for you say you don't need it. Your world consists of one thing -- you.

Someday when you are alone, more alone than you are now, you will reflect back on your life.

You will wonder why no one is there for you as you lie on your death bed.

You will question all that you have and what, at this moment, it's worth.

You will say, in your last moments, to a God you suddenly believe in, "Why am I alone?"

And you will be answered, "You're not."

And you will finally know what Love is.

And then you can say You Love.

© Ellen M. DuBois