I wish I could convince him
That things don’t have to
Be this way, that we could
Make the world a less
Hard and cruel place than
It sometimes is, that
Everything could be better
If fewer people heeded the
Call of fear, anger, avarice,
And became open to love.
He’s mortally afraid
That they’ll
Take away
What he has.
He’s indignant
That they’ll get
Something for free
And he won’t.
He writhes at the
Thought of someone
Undeserving usurping
His position.
He fights vociferously
When it’s even
Remotely suggested
That he share.
A social conscience
As yet undeveloped,
Living only
For himself.
Meeting at a business mixer,
Exchanging half smiles,
Striking up a conversation
About a mutually shared
Interest, profession.
After only a few sentences,
The insecurity kicks in,
Denigrating what the other does
To make oneself feel better,
More important.
Cycle of pathetic competition,
Broken people stepping on
Each others’ heads to
Continue avoiding
Looking inward.
You’ll find it
At the top of the hill,
In that house no one
Lives in anymore,
Where that one family
Nobody talks about
Endured all those
Unmentionable things,
Collective loss of
Memory, the weight of
What we actually are.
They are entrusted
With the responsibility
Of governing, moving
The country forward.
They commence their
Solemn duty with the
Only thing that makes
Any sense to them:
Steeply boosting funding for
Waging war and drastically
Cutting programs that
Help the poor.
Waking up, another
Fear-infested day,
Reading the headlines
Stemming directly from
His own toxicity,
Him, there but for
Circumstance, separation of
Only moment and location,
Already part of the
Horror, anticipating the
Inevitable conclusion.
A ragtag group of
People unhappy with
Where the country is going
Assemble to voice
Their anger at a
System that has
Let them down.
Waving flags,
Chanting slogans,
United in their vitriol,
They rail against
The people who aren’t
Making their lives
More difficult.
In a Swiss bank account
A tidy fortune slumbers,
Carefully tucked in
By one of the few
Who betrays the trust
Of the many, turning them
Against their only allies.
Since she was
A little girl,
She’s been told
That this is
What she should
Behave like,
And this is what
She should look like,
And this is whom
She should marry,
And this is what
She should wear,
And that this
Is her lot in life.
As soon as
She possibly can,
She leaves it all
Behind for the joy of
Self-determination and
The freedom to celebrate
Who she really is and
Follow her own rules.
He can choose
Any path really,
His wealth allows him
To pretty much do
Whatever he wants,
Whenever he wants,
In any way
He wishes to.
It’s not so hard
To make someone
Else’s life a
Little easier,
More rewarding,
Worthwhile,
Empires can be built
With kindness,
Sharing doesn’t have
To be an expletive.
He elects to
Pay low wages.
