Compassion Poems - Page 2

You hold my hand,
I, like a child, feel safe.
You hold my hand,
I feel a warm embrace.
You hold my hand,
my fears begin to fade.
You hold my hand,
and I am less afraid.
You hold my hand,
I know a sense of peace.
You hold my hand,
I feel my troubles cease.

Have you seen the doctors who hardly get to sleep?
From sad weary eyes, silent tears they weep.
They're battling to save hundreds of lives,
Yet see so many dying right before their eyes.

Have you seen the nurses, tired and worn,
Just come from doing many hours on the wards?
Have you seen them out, walking on lonely streets
Searching empty shelves, for nourishing food to eat?

Have you seen domestics, putting safety first
Keeping hospitals clean, fighting off the germs?
Bravely they go into infectious wards,
Never thinking of themselves, no not at all.

Have you seen the porters, down on their heels,
Walking many miles, pushing many wheels?
We must respect this valued band of women and men.
Though they go unnoticed, we can't do without them.

Have you seen the caterers, keeping all folk fed?
The staff and the patients lying in their beds.
Such an important part to play in someone's health,
A role that couldn't be compared to any amount of wealth.

A great big thank to all National Health Staff
To every volunteer coming forward like they have.
You all have a part of our hearts, are in every prayer we make.
May God bless you all, keeping you well and safe.

We are not the same,
Not in creed, in colour or name.
Yet together we inhabit this earth,
We should value each other's worth.
Understanding we won't always agree,
For you are you and I am me.
Show no prejudice, exhibit no hate,
No animosity, no arguing, only debate.
Different opinions, different ideas,
A tapestry of people with a range of hopes and fears.
In essence we are one,
Sharing the same earth, moon and sun.
We share a common ground,
Laughter, tears, feelings profound.
Yet we won't always agree,
For you are you and I am me.

Close your eyes and picture beauty.
What is it that you see?
A baby, a mountain, a river?
Or maybe an old oak tree?

There is beauty all around us,
But some of it's hard to find,
Perhaps in the eyes of a weary soul
To which life has not been kind.

Maybe a life so shattered
And their world torn apart.
Hurting and so very alone,
They live with a broken heart.

Look beyond what you see.
Love them for who they are.
Do this, and you will find
Beauty beneath the scars.

Through my eyes
All I see
Is a perfect little boy
Staring back at me

To the world outside
He may seem broken
But our love, our bond
Remains unspoken

He has few words
But his actions speak loud
My heart swells
He makes me so proud

He drives some mad
Fills the house with screams
But I see who he is
And he's not what he seems

You may see trouble
But I see love
He is my world
And the stars above

Don't judge my son
By what you see
You'd see his soul
If you looked closely

There is a woman who always keeps her head up high.
Her eyes sparkle like a bright star in the sky.
She has the stamina, beauty, and courage that one would admire,
Even the love and happiness one inspires.
She is a women that one can always count on,
And a woman that sees no wrong.
Her beauty shines from the inside out,
It flows like a journey down a long route.
Her smile shines beautifully like the sun rising over the horizon,
And her intelligence, wisdom, and hard work are not surprising.
She is a genuinely caring women
Who goes the extra mile to help one in need or broken hearted,
And throughout all of her hard work,
No one ever sees her fall apart.

When you feel bad for what you say
Remember your mom wasn't always this way.
She is your mom and used to be
A woman who cared, much like me.
To see her not be herself
And say things out of sort
Your heart goes out and is saddened
By the very thought.
You can see she is not always bright.
She's losing herself
And she does not feel right.
Remember her as she once was
And try to forget what she does.
Take each day and let it go
For she won't remember what is so.
Go with her stories and her fears
And let her know you are here.
Take a deep breath and step aside
For she has only this one life.
Put on your patient hat and try
To understand the reason why.
She is old and she knows that
It's very scary to wear her hat.                                             
Try to start fresh each day
And make her feel she's not in the way.
Smile, smile it usually works 
Never argue
Agree with all her quirks.
She is the only mom you'll have
So love her dearly and don't be sad.

When word comes that you are gone
what will be said of you?
Those who only knew you casually
will say charitable platitudes.
For that's the thing to do when
death closes out fond or ill remembrances.

But how will those that cared remember you?
He lived a good life, they'll say.
Good as in good health, good parent or spouse.
But how cast your shadow
after all decays with time?
Is anyone better because of you?

You stood in awe of nature and the universe.
Will they say, he noticed such things?
You reverenced life of all creatures.
Will they say , it meant much to him?
You loved the arts.
Will they say, he excelled at none but tried?
You believed, but your doubts were many.
Will they say, he had concern for his fellow man?

It's the touch that gives you comfort.
It's the touch that makes you feel.
It's something that no one else can ever steal.
It's the sweetest human contact for the body and the mind.
It's the connection where two bodies link and bind.

It's what we search for when we feel all alone,
It can be so meaningful; the emotion is deep to the bone.
It's what makes us realize that someone else is there.
It's the touch that says, "Just know I'll always care."
It can say hello; it can say goodbye.
It can leap out when you're happy or make you want to cry.
It can say "I love you" or "I'm really glad we're friends."
It can be the last spark in a story that ends.

All you need is another soul to make you feel this snug.
It's the connection in our life.
Everyone needs a hug.

Seven AM and I sat at the light,
Watching the train chugging by.
A day like the rest, on the way to my job,
Just routine with no feeling inside.

The morning was frigid and snowy,
Just thinking how cold he must be.
But there I could see him wrapped up on the stoop,
In that blanket he found on the street.

That cold, concrete stoop, at that old, empty store,
The place that for years he called home.
He sat there each day, never meeting your eyes,
Just contented to be left alone.

The weeds by the tracks were his bathroom,
His food was a bottle of wine.
His clothes were all dirty and tattered.
He was drunk or passed out all the time.

To see him you'd think he was no one.
He was barely a man anymore.
A failure to the ones who once loved him,
And a burden to the rest of the world.

But those who once knew him in the days long gone by
Would tell you how wrong you would be.
For in fact, it's quite true that this lost, broken soul
Was once just like you and like me.

He woke up every morning in a home of his own
That he shared with his son and his wife.
He worked every day as a painter by trade
And thanked God every night for his life.

People who watched him admired his ways.
He was caring and decent and good.
He worked harder than most to provide for his son,
And for neighbors he did what he could.

Life was a struggle, and times could be bad,
But he always found strength to go on.
He wanted the best for the people he loved,
Never dreaming that soon they'd be gone.

It happened in winter on a dark, snowy day,
In a storm that had moved in quite fast
That his wife ventured forth to pick up their son,
And neither survived when they crashed.

From the day they were buried his friends rallied round,
But he was lost despite how much they tried.
And even today when they speak of him still,
They say it's as if they all died.

And when I last sat at that light, by that stoop,
I saw he was no longer there.
The store still sat empty and was now boarded up,
And I wondered if anyone cared.

But later I learned on that stoop where he lived,
That place that he once made his home
He too passed away on one cold winter's day,
Long forgotten and left quite alone.

So should you pass by a lost soul such as this,
Be careful how harshly you judge him.
For you can't ever know how loved he once was,
Or how valued his life may have been.