The Distant Call

The phone rang on the wall,
A distant call, or plea if you will.
From a land far away,
Out of sight, out of mind.
The government answered,
And put them on hold.
While they went to warm their toes,
Millions froze in the winter snows.
The country went unfed holding still yet,
To the phone connected to the wall.

The wall was soon abandoned,
left alone by all.
Until a child went to get his ball,
He found the phone,
And picked it up and put it to his head.
From the other end,
the repeated call went thorough.
But the child was young,
He knew not what to do.
So placed the phone down again,
And through the streets he ran.
Yet still the phone was left to ring on the wall.

The wall soon started crumbling down,
Yet still the phone on the wall,
Sent out a distant call.
A blind man stumbled apron the wall,
Reaching out, he found the phone.
And listed to the call come through,
The man could feel the others pain.
He ran through the streets in vain,
Yelling out the words that had come.
But all turned away at him in disgust,
On the other side, a women,
Held the phone still.
Lying on mass of bodies,
Sheltering her dying child.
Yet still the phone rang on the wall.
Unheard, unanswered by all.


The blind man was frantic,
There was nothing he could do.
He was just one man,
And no one would listen to him too.
While he slept in a hostel,
Millions others slept not at all.
Fearing sleep, fearing death.
The government looked at the large stock plies,
And said “I suppose we could send some bread.”
So they loaded up their trucks,
Sent them on their way.
With huge creates of bread,
They travelled though the night.
The call had been answered,
Or so the government thought.

When the tucks arrived,
On the dusty road.
All they saw was bodies,
Twisted, curled, or sprawled on the floor.
Walking carrying the creates,
The relief workers moved.
One steeped in something gooey,
And said, “what is that?”
The other answered “ I think that’s blood!”
It was then that they realised,
Nothing moved, except the rats.
All the thousands of bodies,
that had waited in this camp.
None stirred, not even one.

The government shifts the blame but clearly states
“we sent the bread just a little too late.”
As they watch the crates come back,
Filled with the dead, where there used to be bread.
The blind man steps in and says,
“Blame who you want, but you all failed these friends.
For they said, send us food or we are dead.”
I have seen the wall not long ago,
Its been fixed up as a reminder to us all.
The tragedy that happens, when you do not answer a call.
Something I, a blind man can do or not at all.