Insecurity

“I need help,” they shout.

But I am reluctant.

“I need help,” they scream.

My eyes shift away.

“I need help,” they blubber

.

But I was not the Good Samaritan who God had looked upon. I did not answer. I was not strong.

For unlike him I am not enough.

So, “No, no difference will I make,” I muttered,

leaving the poor one to blubber, to scream, shout, suffer.