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.
Sitting in a stifling classroom,
Looking out the window,
The occasional visitor
Walking resignedly
Toward the office,
A bird flying by,
Glad it’s not in this
Algebra class,
Reveling in its freedom.
An intense stare confirms that
The clock is barely moving
And that the subject at
Hand is all but unbearable,
Incomprehensible to some minds,
Though nobody seems to care.
They talk on the
Phone about how
Different things are
Now, how much is
Left to be done.
The remnants of the
Past flicker weakly
Before being extinguished
By the present, the
Passage of time,
The change that happens
No matter how hard
Anyone tries to hang on.
He acts tough,
Brash, invincible,
Perpetually
Fake optimistic,
Because that’s
What he thinks
People want to see.
He forgets that
It means more to
Be vulnerable,
Courageously looking
Inward to find and
Reveal his true self,
Unadulterated.
Sitting on a bench
In a garden,
Looking out over
A placid pond,
He wonders whether
It might have
Been different,
Memory embellishing
What never was.
Not sure what to do,
Questioning everything,
A path in this direction
Unpromising, just as in
Every other, struggling
To keep going with
Little to hold on to,
Persevering where others
Stay in hermetically
Sealed boxes of safety,
Never straying away from
Comfort, not grasping
What it is to dive into
The unknown, untethered.
Incongruously,
An ad appears
On the TV screen
Extolling the
Virtues of the
Ruthless
Industrialists’
Many companies
And how they’re
Woven into the
Very fabric of
Our lives.
A transparent
Attempt at
Whitewashing
Their dark
Legacy just before
They’re exposed
For who they
Really are
And how much
Suffering they’re
Responsible for.
Preemptive
Damage control
Varnishing their
Sordid acts.
Heightened expectations,
Consistent disillusion
Exacerbated by impatience.
Waiting becomes a familiar,
Unwanted companion.
So many other things to
Be done, dreams to be
Fulfilled, moments of joy,
Return to calmness.
