Have you not seen
a mood like sunlight
and then retracts?
Have you wondered why?
Kindness is in prison till it finds
release in words or deeds.
We hold the keys
to free our apprehensions and mistrust;
notwithstanding that most remain content with selfish ease.
Though sometimes a thought occurs that reminds
the careless heart that keys decay in rust.
I saw the cruelty hidden in your conniving eyes.
Have you not seen
a street much like post-Warsaw ghetto
like a vivid Hollywood movie
as ill-represented and as rough as the lines that depict
savage as the masses?
Have you wondered why?
Cruelty is in an open field.
Corpse-ridden.
Gunned down.
Most remain content with selfish ease.
Such sorrow in the life of man,
such ever-present need,
all the world can offer will never suffice.
I write this poem from my heart:
kindness in art,
cruelty in sham.
The line is drawn,
I see we’re world’s apart.
My introspection is done.
The page is printed.
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