Before the Work Begins

I am pulled to communicate
what I saw on the streets.
Up a block I watched
the fire trucks
blare past me.
As I came apon
where they stopped
I saw
a woman
writhing
and clutching herself
on the ground,
her walking cane
laid out
alongside her.
Police surrounded her
trying to communicate
with her. They
didn't seem
like they were
having much luck.
My hand
instinctively
reached for my heart.
I pray for her,
but
I walk on by.
I do not stop to lend a hand.
I know, I know,
the police were there,
it is their job to
take care of it.
But I'm still
left feeling
saddened that I
like so many others
walked on by
as someone reached out
in physical pain,
drug induced
or not
something doesn't
sit right
in me. There is
a fidgeting
in my spiritual belief
concept. This
feels like
a moral dilemna.
Next time,
what difference
will I make?
What will I do
when pain lies
on my path.
One thing
I know
I won't continue on,
like nothing happened.
I've got
solid proof
there's not a chance.