Spectating

I wanted to to write something to express how I feel when witnessing images and coverage on TV about the Middle East. This poem sums it though...

Sitting on the sidelines of life I see so much but do so little,

A spectator of a spectacular film I watch on enthralled,

I feel their emotions, their pain, their happiness,

I feel so ready to say what it is that they’re doing wrong and am silent when I see the right,

I am weak I know as I sit there watching the big screen ,

Just not ready for my close-up yet,

Not ready to jump in,

A spectator of a spectacular film I watch on enthralled,

I feel myself getting weaker as I sit there not ready to peel my eyes off the screen I sit there not alone as it seems,

If I did I would see what’s on the screen is actually reality,

Its physicality staring back at me with those questioning eyes wondering where I have been,

So dead and numb to life all these years,

There is no strength inside me I have sat too long,

Waiting, hoping that it wasn’t the truth,

But it is.