Human suffering
Appears to have
Absolutely no impact
On him.
He doesn’t seem
To care at all whether
A child goes hungry
Or a mother falls ill.
No concept of
Fairness, equality,
Or trace of most
Basic compassion.
Nobody ever helped him,
Completely self-made,
At least that’s what
He tells others.
Their march will continue,
Until every single
Person believes exactly
What they believe and
Acts exactly as they
Want everyone to act,
And looks exactly like
They all look,
And believes in the
Same fabricated nonsense.
Then they will find
Something else to revile,
Some other group to exclude,
Another contrived target to
Denigrate and spew their
Wretched,
Unquenchable,
Unlimited,
Unreasonable
Hate upon.
Glad-handing each
Other, a winking
Back-slapping herd
Plans its next
Assault on the
Defenseless.
Not a single
Compassionate
Dissenting voice
Beseeching to
Stop the
Carnage.
They assert
The world will
Always be the same,
Will never change,
That people will
Invariably be the way
They have always been.
Pessimistic myopia
Asserted by dreamless
Sorts who have been
Hurt at some point and
Cannot trust that
There is still abundant
Kindness in the world.
Insist you can’t
Make things better,
And you’ll perpetuate
The familiar suffering,
Believe you can
Change the world,
And you will.
The opportunity to
Show the world how
Compassion and community
Can elevate a nation.
Play nicely with monsters,
Pretend they’re not there
To destroy the place,
Profile in trepidation.
What might have been
Becomes what isn’t,
A wasted chance to
Do the right thing.
The sun sets on
Desperation unattended,
Leaving behind a sorry
Rotting carcass.
A bright light shines
On his embalmed face
As he promises the
Screaming throng of
Sycophants that he’ll
Destroy everything that
Provides safety and
Dignity to the destitute.
A roaring cheer explodes;
Finally, the prospect of
Putting the power back
Into the hands of those
Who least deserve it.
Teary eyes hoping for a
Better day for the chosen,
A far worse plight
For everyone else,
As it should be.
We hear about more
Human beings getting
Slaughtered, utter some
Disingenuous, meager platitudes,
Wring our hands a bit,
And then do nothing
To stop the carnage.
They disingenuously claim
That it’s not about
The implement, but rather
The person, but it’s
All too painfully clear
That’s it’s really about
Making money at any cost.
They toil to change
The school curriculum
To reflect a self-righteous
Thirteenth-century view
Of the world.
A wonderful realm where
Education succumbs to
Superstition, where
Strict hierarchy imposes
Its arbitrary whims.
A king on top,
Everyone else in tatters,
Barely subsisting,
Summarily subjugated by
Master manipulators.
He doesn’t care
Very much about the
Obscene piles of
Cash the bankers
Made off with,
Leaving behind the
Worst financial cataclysm
Since The Great Depression.
He prefers to focus
His self-righteous ire
On the hapless bystanders
Pitilessly ruined by
The conscious malfeasance
Of financial criminals,
Now forced to queue up
At the food bank.
