I’m sorry for
What I did,
I didn’t know
What else to do.
If I had a chance
To relive the moment,
I would behave
Differently.
I wish time
Would allow me to
Go back and
Change things.
If only you
Could see me now,
On my
New path.
Start.
Stop.
Second-guess.
Fret.
Start again.
Stop again.
Think about it some more.
Worry some.
Start.
Falter.
Fade.
In the garden,
A small bird
Stops by to say hello.
Breathing more peacefully,
I realize everything
Will be okay.
So calm today
But, yesterday,
What an ordeal.
No idea what to do,
Everything he said
Was wrong,
Each word incinerated
In a roaring furnace,
Each gesture rebuffed
With animosity.
Some days
Are just like that,
He tells himself.
Still not sure
Exactly what happened,
He may never
Understand.
They sit across
From each other,
Neither knowing
What to say, or
When it might be
Appropriate to
Bring it up,
That thing they’ve
Been avoiding,
The one that has
Gotten so big,
Unwieldy,
Unignorable.
She lives with the
Husband she feels
She deserves and who
Treats her exactly
As she was treated
In her own family,
An object to be
Possessed,
Controlled,
Suppressed,
Made to be subservient
And cater to the needs of
Someone who believes
He deserves to be waited on
Because that’s what
He saw as a child.
It’s only a matter of degree
Between the negation of contrary ideas
And the elimination of dissidents,
Crossing the line is far too easy
For those who crave only power
At the expense of humanity,
History dismally repeated
With nauseating frequency,
Brooding adolescents yearning
For prestige, authority,
Some feeling of importance
In a realm absent morality,
Where everything feeds
One impotent ego.
As if they had
Never thought of
Another person
For any reason,
They continued to
Do things that
Adversely affected
Others but that
At no time entered
Their consciousness
Given that the only
Modus operandi they
Understood was to
Purposelessly exist
From moment to moment,
Passing the time before
Reaching their
Expiration date,
Leaving behind
Absolutely nothing
Of any consequence.
Misery seeks its own level,
Infirm ghouls gather together
Celebrating their ghastliness,
Projecting onto others
What they know to be true
About themselves but
Desperately try to hide,
Hysterically lashing out at anyone
Who sees through the ruse,
Soused in fear,
Animate wounds
Perverting truth and decency
To avoid feeling the same pain
They’ve inflicted on others for so long.
