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terezacristinagonalvesmendescastro

It's up to me only

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It's up to me only

The tenderness to bring life to those who do not have
Hope for the afflicted
Everyone hears the screams,
But they pretend to be deaf.
Pain is commonplace,
A large-scale world war.
Suddenly, if all the other diseases disappeared,
And, the human being,
Bow in front of me.
Yes. A virus larger than an atom,
The fact that they bow.
Since those years have all been forgotten, bow down to God.
And, not to mention the murders done,
To the works of the Creator.
And, today it's up to me to decide,
Who will live or leave.
God gave me that power,
And, you think you're superior to everything,
If you think you're king in this world,
But not!
Look at the lilies of the field,
Look at the old trees,
Observe the animals,
Be builders like bees and ants.
You men who kill yourself,
Out of greed,
Today they are faced with no solution,
And after the small recovery
They thank doctors and nurses,
But, God wanted it to be okay,
For HIM to remember too.

São Paulo, July 31, 2020.
Handwritten poetry.
Teka Castro

I offer to Pastor Antônio Júnior, Professor of Chemistry Fábio Souza, Father Marcelo Rossi, Pope Francisco, Carlos Carmelo O Pudles, Adilson Mikami, to the nurses: Luiz Riveiro, my nephew, friend Fabiana de Jesus, in memoriam of all who were victimized by cornovirus, this year 2020.

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