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.
It was only
When it happened
To her that she
Realized what
Other people had
Been going through
While she and her
Friends were
Putting them down.
Just when it
Seems like things
Couldn’t get more
Appalling, they do.
Standard rules don’t
Apply here,
Just some strange
Perversion.
Passing it off
As normal,
This calamity
Of brokenness.
He spent his entire life
Trying to avoid that
Feeling, the one he
Remembered from childhood
And never wanted to relive,
Constantly struggling to
Circumvent his inner pain,
Destroying all his
Relationships and making
A lot of people miserable.
He carried it deep inside
Until the very end.
They tried to have a
Conversation but it never
Quite seemed to work,
Almost as if they came
From different countries
Or spoke languages the
Other couldn’t understand.
So, they kept it light,
Superficial, avoiding the
Bumps and anything that
Might resemble something
More meaningful.
Her actions negatively
Impacted them but
When they politely
Brought it up to her,
She took offense and
Blamed them,
Unable to admit fault
Or take responsibility
For her own behavior,
Leaving it unresolved,
As with much else
In her life.
He talks eloquently,
Movingly about
Things like
Equality,
Kindness,
Peace,
Hope,
Compassion.
He’s often met with
The same depressing,
Dismissive looks
And comments
Denigrating his
Optimism and
Replacing it
With hopelessness.
Entire spheres
Populated by
Dull
Bullies
Overpowering
Any positive impulse,
Creating a harder,
Meaner world.
So dead inside that
They don’t feel a thing
When making decisions
That hurt other human beings,
Moving forward with
Cold calculation,
Devoid of compassion.
It’s as if
They’ve lost
The ability to
Feel anything,
Empathy replaced
By a grim,
Cold numbness.
