i f i t w a s y o u . . . ?

In this diaphanous slime
that is the after-math
of terror and horror
When we who are miles
removed from the direct
path of those swimming in the
seas of the bloodbath
High on our mountains of pious triumph
and illusory perspective
Call down across the caverns
that our feet have yet to touch
And condemn a whole of
bleeding men, women, and children
because “we have our own”
And because the rotten in their apples
must have surely contaminated them all
Even as, with our own, we can
easily differentiate between the
seeds that were led astray and
those who produce fruit
The filth of these pompous claims
brings me to my knees in shame
And makes me question why we don’t look to find
the human unity that can be used
to bind us all together
rather than look for reasons to exclude
as we beleaguer ourselves
into a fine frenzy
we become less able in our
forbearance and so
violence breeds violence
and our ears go unused
and our empathy unpracticed
atrophies at the cries
of those whose lives we could
have been a part of bettering
but the epiphany to try out love
to dig deeper into understanding what has
been so far unfamiliar
proves to be just out of reach
And then who will be left to teach
these lessons when we’ve
obliterated each other because
our precious egos could not be swallowed
in time to look inward and out to find
our similarities beat more strongly
together than our differences
If it was you…?
What would you hope to find?