The Skies Were Too Far Poem by Haala Marikar

Black and white.
A juxtaposition.
A swan in flight,
A nesting raven.

Lightning flashing, thunder rolling,
Symbiotic, in the skies,
Realization of equality calling
For peace we ignore; why?

Starving masses reaching out,
All we give are passing sympathies,
Parched lands, infinite drought,
Will the suffering never cease?

Tender hearts and tear-filled eyes,
That never saw the dawn of spring,
Only wintry winds do fly,
Over all of everything.

Tiny forms huddled together,
Broken, desperate,
Children with futures ahead of them,
For most, it is too late.

Yet, they might have made great men one day,
Barack Obamas or Peles,
Another Mandela, a Martin Luther King,
Only, they were birds without wings.

So they live and so they die,
Never once in flight in the too-high blue sky,
For,

Black and white.
A juxtaposition.
A swan in flight,
A nesting raven.