She keeps wishing
For a different result
Although history
Tells her that
Nothing will change,
Everything will remain
Exactly as it is now.
How to restructure the past?
She wonders,
An impossibility
She has not yet
Given up on.
It’s hard to determine
The exact moment when
He lost his sense of hope,
Decided that all that
Mattered was hoarding
As much wealth and power
As possible, building a moat
Around his fragile psyche,
His immediate needs
Superseding everyone else’s.
All that seemed to matter
Was keeping himself and
His own safe at all costs and
With absolutely no consideration
For anyone else, especially
Those he perceives as the enemy.
Every single person
Matters.
No one is more
Important or valuable.
Each human being
Has a unique set of gifts.
We all deserve to be
Treated with kindness.
Everyone can shine
If allowed to.
We don’t have to compete
Against one another.
We’re all in this
Together.
He can see that
She loves doing this more
Than anything,
A dream finally
Identified, acted upon,
Yet not quite what
He thinks it should be.
He says something
Unhelpful.
No matter what happens,
How many setbacks
Present themselves to
Mock his mettle,
He continues his forward
Movement, remembering
That what matters is
Being on his path.
There are many occasions
When she wonders whether
What she just did is
What she should have done
And whether it will
In some way reflect poorly
On her decision-making
Ability or will just fade
Into obscurity until,
At some indeterminate time
In the future, it reappears
To remind her of
What she didn’t
Realize at the time.
A humdrum bureaucrat
Sitting behind a nondescript
Desk in a characterless room,
Mechanically filling out
Form after form, as he was
Told to do by somebody,
It doesn’t matter who.
All just numbers, inert objects
To be shuffled around,
Statistics filling page
After page after page.
He takes a sip of coffee,
Picks up the phone to call
His wife about dinner.
What it must be like
To wake up every
Morning and know that
You have to defend a
Way of life shrouded
In secrets, untruths,
Misdirection, inauthenticity,
Points of view steeped in
Dissonance. Struggling to
Make things fit that
Were never meant to,
Pretending to be someone
You’re not, not a moment’s
Peace, suffocating artifice.
I’m not sure whether
He disapproves or
Is utterly perplexed
By what I’ve just said,
Although I’m certain
He doesn’t understand
Anything beyond his own
Unconscious reaction,
Empathy not being
One of his strong suits.
