I Am The Tourist
they talk, they talk about compassion,
but…
the rain, it comes down,
and the compassion is silent.
their compassion, well, it has no sound.
and there’s me,
me, me who i thought was moving forward,
but i am the tourist,
and they, well, they own all the doors.
and now, in these moments, no one asks how i am,
but then i know,
the worlds we work in can be a barren land,
and of course, when you most need them,
there is, of course, a lack of hands.
of course, i look elsewhere,
and the eyes move, they move to a different plea,
especially when processes are clearly unjust.
the hope of progress
is now progressing through the rust.
i try to be kind and cling to ideas of love,
of course, i know that’s simplistic,
but i want to keep in touch
and make sure i never lose my social justice passion.
but now, now there are worlds in which i work,
and they somehow,
somehow never have an atmosphere of compassion.
i know, i know i take risks,
and now, here, in this time, i realise it was not true,
i was only ever a useful idiot and a visiting tourist.
James Garratt – Friday 18th October 2024
More poems at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/
More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-behind-the-glasses-an-introduction/
More poems from 2024 here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/category/poems-and-writing-2024/
I Am The Tourist – Written Friday 18th October 2024 (Aged 49)
