She says she’s happy. Long hours
Pass obsessing about others and what
They think. All the while a small voice
Deep inside reminds her of events
She’s desperately trying to forget,
Memories time doesn’t smooth.
Continue looking outward where the
Answers aren’t. Seek solace in attention
From anyone and comfort from mistaken
Sympathy. When the world is about others,
It isn’t about you.
Force the public schools
To atrophy so that few
Can accurately discern
The real issues that
Affect their lives.
Create a propaganda
Echo chamber where
Bigoted beliefs are pounded
Into receptive brains,
Willing followers.
Pander to base impulses,
Throbbing amygdalas
Screaming with fear,
Ready to act on
Intentional misinformation.
Blur the line between
Reality and fiction,
Fashion an alternate universe
Where incarceration is freedom,
Dictatorship safety.
One time, unconditional, unexpected,
Unadulterated by churning insecurity,
Endless pins piercing skin, gradually
Increasing intensity, perpetual lack of
Feeling. Say something, do something
Different, differently, deferentially,
Deliberately aid someone, something
Bigger than you, though impossible.
Puffed chest and blustery proclamations,
Interminable, unrequited, unalleviated.
Somewhere in the
Recesses of his mind,
He still holds onto
Sour memories of being
Betrayed by a parent
Who he had formerly
Held in high esteem.
Thus started the vortex
That consumed his innocence
And drowned his optimism,
Coloring all his
Unhinged decisions,
Ruthlessly damaging untold
Numbers of helpless people
Just because he can’t
Forgive or forget.
They send each other
Frequent e-mails
Mocking his race
Without the least bit
Of remorse or awareness
As to how they are
Hurting a fellow
Human being.
Truth be told,
They don’t really
Consider him to fully
Be a person like them.
It’s all a game
When you’ve never been
The target of
Despicable insults,
Of demeaning epithets
Uttered by people who
Hold you in the
Deepest contempt for
No other reason
Than how you look
And how powerless
They feel inside.
We really don’t know how to
Say this, but we’re not sure
That things are going to
Work out, not because of
Anything you did…
Actually… (stammering),
Mainly because it just
Wasn’t what we thought it
Would be and we have to
Change it as quickly as
Possible, even though we
Really don’t have a reason
For doing it, although
We really do but would never
Just say it out loud.
They just
Don’t get it,
What it’s like
To be demeaned
And belittled
For nothing else
Than the color of
Your skin,
The feeling of
Hateful eyes
Sizing you up
When you go
Where you’re not
Supposed to,
The contempt you’re
Confronted with
When you speak up
In any way,
The stinging pain
Of being
Looked down upon
Day after day.
You can’t do that.
You don’t matter.
You’re not important.
You’re worthless.
You’ll never amount to anything.
Color inside the lines.
Stick to the script.
Don’t rock the boat.
Don’t talk back.
Keep it to yourself.
Forget those dreams.
Be someone else.
Live the life you’re told to.
Follow the rules.
Surrender.
A smattering of people
Gather someplace
To raise funds for
Someone’s illness.
No health insurance,
He’s always been a huge
Opponent of any type of
Public medical care.
Keep the government
Out of my business,
Don’t waste
My tax money.
Six hundred and
thirty-nine dollars
Are raised to pay
The bills.
So she began, with
Hopes and dreams and
Excitement at what the
Future might bring.
Arranged everything, as
She’d been taught and
Introduced some new, fresh
Ideas with optimistic intention.
Not enough for those
Who had lost the luster.
Years of being tumbled around,
Disoriented, missing a compass,
Hearts expired, vision clouded.
Excitement stifled, passion quelled.
Encouraged to behave just like the others.
Color inside the lines.