There Be Comfort
11/06

I can't tell you how cold it is.
The wind never resting, always piercing.
It's hard even to lie down,
It's hard to stand,
There is no comfort.

I can't describe what it's like to always be hungry,
To have forgotten how it feels to be full.
Those twistings of my stomach are normal.
There is no food.
No warmth.

I can't show you the fear at night when the Light departs.
For evil men prowl the streets.
Will I meet them tonight?
Will they come to this place where I rest?
There is no peace, no comfort.

Will I fall down? Will I roll off the edge?
If I fall asleep, who will tell?
Life has no comfort,
And I know it well.

You see this is reality.
You there in your warm room, on your soft bed,
Coming from a plentiful meal.
You live in a dream, soon to end.

I live in reality.
For though I suffer while you bask,
I know the true order of things.
That's why the One said how hard it is for a rich man...

I know that Life is a battle.
I know there are elements and actors against me.
But as I lie on this ash to sleep at night,
Cold, hungry, and afraid,
I can look to the stars, for I have no roof,
And know, He shines up there looking back upon me.
He is my comfort.

Author's note: these words are from a young boy in poverty to me, a middle-class Ivy League student.