Take It From Me

Sat down to think of a poem Not to change the world But to change the people Who are afraid of change And are by consequence Afraid of the world Which changes on its own And does not need me To write for it Sat down to think of a poem Not to answer the hard questions of the world But to ask the people who ask “What do I need to know?” “Are you like us?” “Do you like us?” How can I use these hands That write questions? How can I use these words To ask? Sat down to think of a poem To write for the hopeful Not the people who are But the people who only see pity But pity is for the pitiful; After all I have no pity for men Only a swelling-receding Charging-retreating Merciless beating of hope Hope that I could Speak enough sense Give enough help Shell out enough cash Give enough of myself That these people Who only see my pity Could learn to see my hope And use it To change the world Which may change on its own And does not need me to hope for it