"Awareness," A Poetry Post

The world is a lonely place

when you are one of few using the

holes in your face to

sense and impact dark realities.

Perhaps in the midst of your

daily “Fight” trance you’ll

encounter a like-mind

in a “Brace Yourself” dance,

but your time for encouragement

is a fleeting romance when

you are awake.

All about you are bodies

untouched by their ills,

unchanged by their circumstances,

dispossessed of their wills and

devoid of life’s strength.

You reach and you teach and you

preach and beseech and you

cry and you pray and you shout

and hooray their every little improvement.

But still they are sleeping and

inwardly seeping out all of your preaching;

for all of your reaching they’re

easily leeched by their

own perverse aims.

What does become of us

if only one of us out of a

ton of us

chooses to take up strong arms against

darkness?

We’ll be found fossiled,

lined up in sediment like

assembly-line drones,

strangely made crystal,

encapsulated by the evils we

allowed in our homes.

It’s a lonely place, truly.

Great fun for the ones who are

wild and unruly but

humdrum for the ones who

see clearly.

Humdrum for the ones who hear

everything.

Humdrum for the ones

aware

of what a

good life

is.