Tags
Abuse, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, psychology, Sociology, unconditional love, violence
I sit, in sadness,
holding hands with an injured friend;
her ribs broken and fractured,
her breathing painful and difficult,
her head aching and dizzy,
her face bruised
and scraped.
Another friend
is absent, in hiding; yet
he has no sanctuary,
there is no place he won’t be found.
At last, he had his life
in some semblance of order.
Two months sober;
he had an apartment, furniture;
his pride and self-worth had returned.
Then, he spent his rent check on booze —
starting with triple tequila shots
at a biker bar.
The universe
had given him a fresh start —
he threw it away.
Street justice will prevail;
sentence has been passed:
a bruise for a bruise,
a broken bone for a broken bone,
and something extra
so it won’t happen again.
Punishment will be exacted
with ruthless,
emotionless
efficiency.
Read about my friends here http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS
Reblogged this on langhilar and commented:
This words have weight
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Thank you for reblogging my post. It is much appreciated.
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Friends are like jewelries, they make you glow even in the dark !
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Very true.
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I will defiantly read about your friend.
My heart ached reading your words. 💔
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Thank you Carisa. Joy was wounded, but a fighter, right to the end.
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I enjoy nature i go on a walk each and every day, i enjoy the looking at the beauty of nature flowers and the trees, until i’m saddened when i have to walk down this one specific path, it takes me to a place that i call street justice that is where my friends are at, very loving and caring people i would like to add, to my next devastating comment of a broken life of damage and their hardship lives my friends have had, i see a friend of mine suffering in pain from broken ribs and bruises, my friend told me when i saw my friend today, with tender hugs and unconditional love, i hold this person and i pray to God and say, dear God please watch over my friends, why do my friends have to suffer, and live this uncompassionate way….
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Thank you, Angel, for your love and compassion. I’m sure that is much appreciated by those who have so little.
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The opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety. It’s connection. The apartment, the furniture, they are comforts. They ease the difficulty of daily life. But only connection with another, to feel truly heard and seen, can ease the pain one tries to drown in the bottle, or the needle, or the poker table, or the 75 hours a week at the office.
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I agree, addiction merely dulls the pain for a short while. A lasting, compassionate friendship can last a lifetime.
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