Born into a struggling family,
Never enough money for rent,
Electricity shut off regularly,
Parents fighting constantly
Over finances,
Stuck in low-wage jobs
Designed to keep them
Exactly where they are
In perpetuity
By people far better off
Than they are,
The same ones who
Look at them disapprovingly,
Labeling them lazy.
A door opens on a
Narrow lane in a small
Hillside town forgotten
By time. She steps out
Into the familiar mix
Of shadow and light
Playing off stone.
A neighbor walks by,
The perfunctory hello.
Once in a while she sees
A tourist or two, adventurous
Sorts who journey to isolated
Places for an authentic experience.
She wishes she could tell
Them what her life is like,
Ask them to take her with them.
At the point that
You’ve got a group of
People refusing to
Fund education for children,
Gloating about it
Without a hint of shame,
You realize that the
Situation is more dire
Than one might have imagined,
That people can lose the
Part of them that
Cares for others and
Values the common good.
The easiest task imaginable,
Denounce hatred and violence.
He sees things through a filter
Of pain, detachment, habit, privilege.
His father’s voice reverberating
In his head, muttering atrocities.
There will be no healing today,
Nor perhaps ever.
On sordid display, a flailing child,
Tantrum in full progress.
People of conscience
Rising to fill the void.
He doesn’t have a big problem
With paying taxes so
Children can go to school,
Even though he has no kids.
He’s just fine with having
Some of his money going to
Help the less fortunate.
He doesn’t think twice about
Treating people like fellow
Human beings, even when
They don’t look like him.
He just goes about his
Business happily, knowing he’s
Contributing to a greater whole.
