Dreams unrealized
Yet still
Vibrant.
Experiences anticipated,
Moments of elation,
Excitement.
Respite from the
Monotony,
Welcome movement.
Talking about
All the things
That will be.
Future triumphs
Engendered deliberately,
Hopefully.
Remember those heady days
When we knew we could
Change the world,
Where anything was possible,
Where the old constraints
Were no longer binding us
To antiquated notions of
Order and righteousness.
We believed in
Peace and love and
Building a better world
For everyone.
It’s still achievable
If we just remember.
In the garden,
A small bird
Stops by to say hello.
Breathing more peacefully,
I realize everything
Will be okay.
Sitting across from her
Therapist, Kelly asks
Why all men are so
Messed up and hurt nice
Women like her
Over and over.
The answer turns out to
Be the the same as the one
From the faraway voice
In the back of her mind:
They are a product of
Insecure fathers and
The women who put up
With them.
Kelly mulls over this
New bit of information
And resolves that the
Cycle ends with her.
Alone in a room,
Wondering if anything
He’s done has any value,
Whether his decisions
Have all been mistakes,
Despondency his companion,
Inner comfort unreachable,
Questioning everything that
Has transpired in his life,
A sense that nothing will
Ever go right because it
Never has before,
He gets up and leaves.
After many years,
The tempest passes.
A warm glow fills the sky,
Verdant meadows glistening.
The chirping of birds,
Flowers swaying in the breeze.
So much time spent in hiding,
Time to go out and enjoy.
Breathing in deeply,
Everything better.
And so we find ourselves
Where we’ve always been,
Ignoring sincere pleas
For peace and love and
Hurtling instead toward
Facile vengeance,
The familiar path to
Collective misery,
Huddled in enclaves
Terrified of others,
Darkness strangling the light.
Don’t give up on the dream,
Remember that we’re
Capable of much better
Than out-of-control
Fear and hatred,
There’s another path and
We’re the ones to walk it.
Trying to find a solution.
It’s not there,
No matter how hard she looks.
Not yet, at least.
She wonders how much longer
It will take, or whether
Fate conspires against her.
With no immediate answer,
She keeps going,
As she always has.
Blissfully easy,
Categorizing a
Human being as
Defective, lazy,
Unworthy of care,
Compassion.
Cruel exercise,
Rendering a person
Featureless,
Expendable,
Trash decomposing
In a gutter.
Crucial shift
From apathy, scorn,
To compassion,
Understanding
That is all of us
But for chance.
