You Had to be There

I can't go. I went before,
The rich white man among
The brown with good intentions,
More or less, and sacks of rice
Or two-by-fours, to help, to
Sweat, to understand, until
It's dusk or Saturday. Then
Drive me, you, to my hotel.
I'll shower, eat and have a
Drink, and, in a month, I'll
Be back home, among
Those clean and earnest
Faces, saying how it feels
To be where I have never
Gone.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2013-02-03 at 13:14

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