I cannot help
But think
Of all the hurting
In the world,
My bleeding heart overflows,
My mind searches,
For solutions,
My hands for a task that may bring
A greater peace,
But I am left idle,
Unable to accommodate,
Unable to find a means,
Identify a way,
To use this vessel
To help heal the world,
My words will serve as record,
Of the hearts that bled,
That lives were not forgotten,
That many of those who did “nothing”,
Did not abandon cause,
They searched within their means,
And though made weary
never completely tired of fighting
The machine
The Idle Bleeding Heart
She of Letters 