my thoughts: Maybe...

my thoughts: Maybe...
No,I was not inspired by any real incident.I had a very weird dream the night before in which I was in the same situation as the man on the streets.but I wrote with the perspective of the other man to show that how helpless we are in such situations,so scared,so hesitant.By writing this poem I want to say that bravery and courage are not easily found.Its hard to put the need of others before our needs.atleast for me it is.

Maybe...

It was dark.
The street lonely.
I was hurrying back home,
anyone would,
these uncertain times.
out came a cry 'help'
A man's voice.
I paused for a second
again he shrieked,
a heart rendering shriek,
Now I hurried back home
my pace doubled.
The screams kept ringing in my ears
till i reached a 'safe distance'.
Oh!how it cringed my flesh,
that heart rendering scream.
I was glad to reach the safety of my home,
so warm and comfortable,so safe.
The man in the streets,I left him to his own devices.

Sometimes(perhaps once in a year or so),
my conscience pricks itself,
reminding me of the man in the street.
what happened that night?
Maybe he died,
Maybe he is crippled,
Maybe a
widow somewhere is shedding tears in grief,
Maybe a
son's eyes somewhere are bloodshot with rage and vengeance
Maybe I could have helped....

But before sinking too deep in the pit of guilt,
I retrieve myself.
Guilt takes the shape of doubt.

Maybe he was a hoax,
a gang perhaps(the Others,I'm sure)
Maybe he thought he has seen some sort of apparition.

But these doubts of mine are crushed
when I am reminded of the scream,
that heart rendering scream.

Maybe I could have done something,
Maybe my righteousness is just a farce.
I do nothing other than consoling my heart.

Believe me,whenever I remember this incident,
it begins with being ashamed at my uselessness
and ends with a series of maybes and maybe nots.
Maybe I'm not righteous or just or even human,
Maybe I am
for maybe i saved one life that day,
that of my own.