This morning
He woke up and
Resolved to
Give away a
Large part of
His fortune to
People who
Have not had the sun
Shine on them
In the same way
It has on him
And who are where they are
But for chance,
An act of kindness
Offered wholeheartedly
To fellow human beings.
He remembers all the
People who said he’d
Never amount to anything,
That he was incorrigible,
Deficient, devoid of promise,
Until he met the kind teacher
Who understood his plight and
Took the time to
Honor and cultivate
His intellect,
Treating him as a human being
Instead of an object of scorn,
A precious, shining, gem.
I try to make it fit
But in the process
Realize I am devoting
Far too much time to
Forcing something into
A box in which it
Doesn’t belong, not
Because of any glaring
Lack of merit, but simply
Due to it’s dissimilarity.
Two people grow up
In the same family,
In a small or large
Or medium town,
Experiencing many
Of the same things:
Schools, friends,
Environment, culture,
Experiences, perspectives,
Stories, ways of life.
One stays put,
Not necessarily physically
But certainly psychologically,
In an endless, desperate
Struggle to dominate,
Hoarding wealth and power,
Building self-worth through
Putting others down,
Making their lives worse
To make himself feel better.
The other sees the
Importance of kindness,
Helping others thrive,
Giving of himself so that they
Might not have to suffer,
Striving to build a more
Gentle world where love
And peace are the norm.
Two people grow up
In the same place.
Hardness smothers
The landscape, muffling
Contemplation, eradicating
Nuance. The once unthinkable
Becomes the norm, toxicity
Pervasive, accepted,
Glorified in circles shrinking
To outsiders, the chosen
Throwing a party for themselves.
They’ll have you believe
That it’s undesirable
To be nice, compassionate,
But, as has been shown
Time after time,
What really counts is
How you treat others—
Whether you are able
To heal yourself enough
To empathize with
Someone else’s plight
And help them even when
You don’t have to,
The difference between
Surviving and blossoming,
A life of kindness.
Her house in the
Distance, he wishes
He could have said
What he wanted to
But couldn’t, an
Uncomfortable silence
Filling the room
Instead, the weight of
Irresolution, impossible
To ignore or push aside.
He spent his life
Carefully crafting a
Public persona of
Authoritative confidence.
He failed,
Instead producing a
Knot of blemishes
And insecurities.
She cries at the
Most trivial moments,
Everyone around her
Notices that it
Doesn’t quite fit
With what’s really
Going on at the time,
Memories of the
Anguish she felt as
A child bubble up
Relentlessly,
Unacknowledged,
Unattended.
She lives this way
Her entire life,
It colors her
Worldview deeply.
