At the end of his life,
He realizes that
His crowning achievement
Was to live in
All-consuming fear of
Everything and everyone,
Choice gifts bestowed
Upon him by a fist,
Dismissive look.
Sometimes, if he
Closes his eyes tightly,
He can just barely
Picture a place
He never dared visit,
Where he’s smiling.
Sitting in the airport,
It dawns on him
That he needs to stop
Trying to be someone
He’s not,
Move beyond the persona
He’s carefully devised
To avoid facing his fears and
Pursuing his dreams.
He hears the boarding call
As he walks away.
He writes something kind
About me and I, instead of
Simply thanking him or
Savoring the moment,
Immediately wonder why he
Didn’t say something more effusive,
Doubting whether I’m good enough,
The compliment rendered null,
Insecurity extinguishing joy.
Through a torrent of
Unreasonable, petty
Decisions, he relegates
Himself, his enemies,
The world, to a
Perpetual state of war.
The void he feels inside
Fuels his need to
Conquer others, appear
Bigger than he is,
Compensate for his
Stifling ordinariness.
Confronted with a conundrum,
Summarily dismissed as
Not important, relegated to a
Dark basement where notions are
Left to rot until rediscovered by
Unsuspecting eyes, flummoxed by
Distressing absence of insight,
A bug scampering away when
A light is turned on,
Festering complications left
Unanswered by a staggering
Scarcity of sapience, valor.
Publicly utter a
Discriminatory
Epithet.
Play the bewildered
Victim when people of
Conscience notice.
Benefit from kindred spirits
Starting a funding campaign
To support your bigotry.
Keep moving forward
With great vigor
And disregard.
Never learn
Anything from your
Reprehensible actions.
Call yourself
A defender of
Righteousness.
You may stare at the screen
All you wish.
Everything you need will be
Provided.
All questions will be answered,
You will not feel a thing.
A numbing of the frontal lobe
Is normal.
Enjoy complete apathy
Punctuated with rising rage
Misdirected against
The innocent.
We count on your help.
You win!
Stand there with
Your trophy while your
Shambles of a life
Lays at your feet and
You pretend that the
Reward is far greater
Than what you squandered,
Not that you’ll ever
Admit it, that would
Require some measure of
Courage, in short supply
In the land of swagger.
As a child, she had to
Fight for what was hers,
Struggle against the
Feeling that she was being
Judged or wasn’t good
Enough in some way, that
She wasn’t really loved
Or accepted, didn’t matter.
Not so many years later,
She became externally
Successful, with all the
Trimmings and trappings,
But inwardly vowed to
Never again let anyone
Tell her what to do, she’d
Strike first and show them
Who was boss, she’d be in
Control all the time, a
Sullen emperor staring down
From her tarnished throne,
Giving the signal to
Sacrifice yet another
Miserable underling to quench
Her thirst for dominance.
A blossom
Doesn’t care about
Anything other than
Being a flower.
Beautiful.
Someone comes
Along and deems it
Inadequate,
Frightening,
Unimportant,
Strangles it.
The plant lies
Dormant,
Anticipating
Another day.