Although she didn’t know it
At the time, she was in the
Presence of extraordinariness,
A person who could inspire
Others and motivate them
To enjoy an otherwise dry,
Uninteresting requirement.
She took everything in and,
When it was over, made
A concerted effort to
Criticize the one thing that
Hadn’t met her standards.
Stop getting
Your love
All over me.
It doesn’t feel great to
Have layers of
Pain thrust upon me,
Expectant eyes
Imploring that I
Return the favor.
Such a beautiful visage,
Alabaster skin, lapis eyes
Imbued with repressive fear,
Pervasive perplexity,
A delicate flower outraged
By the most gentle breeze.
An unfamiliar face
Elicits horror, bewilderment.
A dissimilar lifestyle
Summarily reviled,
Fortified with maudlin pomp,
Virtuous certainty.
Smile, keep up
Your poise and decorum.
Don’t cede an inch,
They aren’t like you anyway,
So pure, so kind,
So lovely.
They eagerly await
The family’s arrival.
How he loves his tousled,
Rambunctious grandchildren.
Looking out the window,
He thinks of his boyhood.
Pain and want become
Wealth and comfort.
Such distant images,
Times never to be relived.
He pauses by his study,
One small bit of business to do.
Distant decisions spawning
Unseen consequences.
Yet another family struggles
To pay the bills.
The opportunity presents itself
To do whatever he wishes,
In any way he wants,
No limits, constraints,
But for conscience.
Chooses exploitation
And lining his pockets
With their misery.
A trajectory foretold by
Ingrained years of pain.
It’s easy and spectacularly
Unrewarding to live steeped in
Superficial understanding and
Suppression of underlying meaning.
Issues pending, dangling,
Perpetually postponed review.
Submerged in disorienting darkness,
Perspective bends under the weight of
Expanding delusion, self-congratulation,
Cinching of possibility,
Imagination stifled by fictional reality,
Robust defense of fabricated truth.
Gregarious and confident
On the outside, trembling
And tentative on the inside.
The sense that he’s never
Really good enough, no matter
How blustery his exterior.
No sense of his utter inability
To connect with anyone on a
Deeper level, as a human being.
Each encounter becomes another
Opportunity to use someone else
To bolster waning self-esteem.
It was a remark
That made everyone
Pause for a moment and
Perform a reluctant
Self-inventory before
Deciding what to do next.
No one spoke up,
This being a civilized
Place inhabited by
Fearful creatures who
Give wide berth to
The loudest voice and
Keep their objections,
If they had any,
To themselves, allowing
The blowhard to spread
His disease everywhere.
Though these could be
Moments of reflection,
They instead become
Frantic lurches from
One place to another
Desperately trying to
Make the discomfort
Go away and replace it
With who knows what,
Because nobody really
Acknowledges anything
Or is willing talk about
What’s really going on
And why it’s happening.
