Sitting by himself,
Hoping someone will
Stop by,
Ask how he’s doing.
Nobody does,
They never do,
Maintenance of
Flimsy normalcy
Being much more comfortable
Than reaching out.
They go about their business.
As soon as he realizes
That he will have to
Provide health care for
His underpaid employees,
He breaks into a remarkable
Fit of rage, screaming that
He’ll be unable to absorb
The costs and that he’ll
Have to raise prices.
Lost in all the bluster are
The human beings that toil
For him, night and day,
And can’t make ends meet,
Especially since he
Reduced everyone’s hours
To skirt the new laws,
While he relaxes
In his opulent mansion.
Unfeeling,
Although they writhe
And contort at his feet,
Gasping for air,
Struggling to live
Despite circumstance.
He never did care for
Much more than himself,
His history etched into
Him, inky darkness
Unlit by empathy or
The simplest kindness.
All the members of a
Small group are given an
Equal amount of money and
Asked to either give part of
It to their fellow members
Or keep it for themselves.
Most participants choose to
Give some of their money away,
The well-being of the group
Being more important than
The accumulation of wealth
For personal gain.
In every group, there are one
Or two individuals who do not see
Beyond their own needs and
Cavalierly decide to keep
What they have while continuing
To receive money from the others.
Herded into an austere room,
They are told they have
To perform a solemn duty
On behalf of their country.
No room for discussion,
Just non-negotiable commands
To do as they’re told
By supposed superiors.
They are expeditiously
Separated into groups:
Those who will follow,
And the dissenters.
Against his will,
He is forced to do
Something he doesn’t
Agree with, the machine
Being much more forceful
Than his lonely dissent.
A benevolent experiment
Contaminated by the same
Petty concerns that plague
Countless institutions,
Well-meaning at first,
Later horribly flawed.
The saddest of betrayals,
The one who was supposed to
Love her, be there for her
When she was struggling,
Was gone, not in person but
In spirit. He had checked
Out a long time ago, if he
Had ever been there at all.
Trying to keep it
All together,
Every minute a struggle
To drown out
Screams from the past,
Insistent reminders of
Unfathomable horror.
A picture of an imaginary being
Sits on the coffee table,
Providing only
Some superficial
Comfort and solace
Through the constant turbulence.
For years and years
I averted my eyes,
Pretended it wasn’t happening,
Wished against all reason
That it would somehow change.
I was desperately deluded,
What I had felt so vividly
Proved itself lasting,
And remains so
To this very day.
