There's not a Change

I walk slowly, I walk fast but there’s not a change

Heard the gun fires, the bellow, the cries and the whines

I stop for awhile, look around and view the place

And wonder if in this land I could find solace

I perch on a tree trunk and ponder with the time

As I hear the songs of yesterday… a grumble

There’s not a change… it’s the same music that I hear

There’s not a change… the noise of time that I should bear

The passersby, I hear them singing… so lonely

Walking towards somewhere… to a place of nowhere

I see their faces but I don’t know what they feel

There seems a pain and unseen wound that never heal

There’s always a promise in an uncertain world

A hold on pledge may always be heard but not felt

We can walk or run; we can shout or just whisper

Prove that we can do anything and should not fear

If I sing with them . . . or not, will there be a change?

If I walk with them . . . or not, will there be a change?

It’s my mind that will decide but my heart will tell
Amend . . . easy to say yet so hard to compel