Whisper

The Wind Around Your Ears

Someone is screaming, but I keep walking.

It is loud and it is pleading, but I keep going.

Left, right, left right.

One foot in front of the other.

Someone else will help. Everything always works out in the end.

But I have somewhere to be.

I can’t be expected to get involved in someone else’s affairs when I have a destination; there are people to see, things to accomplish.

There’s simply no time to spare.

There’s no time to help the tortured, to save the endangered.

Screams become whispers, merely wind around my ankles-- a breeze that never fades.