Ethereal Kindness. Conniving Cruelty.

I saw the kindness hidden in your ethereal eyes.

Have you not seen

a mood like sunlight

clouded with wary thoughts that circumvent

among the impulse and the words that commence

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.