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In the Trenches

by Janet Martin © 2009

Unless I'm in the dirty trenches
Sharing in the toil and stenches,
I should never cast a stone
At the one down there alone,
Unless I've walked with him awhile,
Wept his tears and shared his smiles,
Pushed against misfortunes wind,
Shouldered burdens of his kind,
Unless I've borne his bitter fate
And fought his battles, small or great,
I should not have a word to say
Unless of course, it is to pray

Love is for the weak and brave,
Not the crest of some great wave,
Love seeks out the lonely face,
Searches in the dreary place,
And it never casts a rock
Into the trench where weary walk,
Love is gentle, love is kind,
Love to differences is blind,
Love does not seek out its own,
Or worship heroes on a throne,
So if love's not my driving force
I should be still, and pray, of course

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This poem was a finalist in the May 2009 poetry contest

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