It is Better to Forget - 11/14/10

I want to write everything
Every word
In the right combination
With the right spacing
And separation
So that my words form an arrow
To hit right through
The heart of whoever did this.

Some world we live in
Where it is better to forget
Then to know
Because the things we know
Are dark
Are scary
Are scarred.

What a world we live in
Where we step out of our homes
And fear.
Where we step into our homes
And fear.
Where suicide is an escape
And murder combats murder,
Where accidents and insanity
Weight the dice of justice
And Justice herself sees all
But does nothing.

What a world we live in
Where we are told to love our neighbors
And then to kill them
If they are not what we think they should be.
Where those preaching the sanctity of marriage
Are those who defile it
With the fifty percent divorce rate.
Where the strong leaders of our world
Are slaves
To their own desires.

What a world we live in
Where we spend more money
On weapons to destroy now
Than on knowledge
To secure a future.
Where we fight over oil
Rather than dying children.

Do you not see this world?
Do you not smell the death,
Hear the sirens,
Taste the blood,
Feel the hate?
It is everywhere.

I want to write
A poem for each problem
The likes of which
Will change the hearts
Of every being who reads it.
I want to align letters
And spaces
Just so
And create a heart-wrenching art
That will make a difference.
But I am no more than any before.
They have failed,
So shall I.

A persistent seed of thought
Has been growing in my mind,
That fire will burn everything,
Even fire.
That in the time we waste
Finding a perfectly
Peaceful solution,
More will die than if we end it now.

What a world we live in
Where the powerful don’t care
And the weak want to do good.

For young girls and old men,
For teenage boys and young mothers,
For the media whores
And the political bores,
For the sluts and the junkies,
For the honest criminals,
For the deceitful juries,
For the teen suicides,
For gay pride,
For homophobic bastards
And generic Prozac perfection,
For broken homes and broken hearts,
For lovers and rapists,
For mothers and murderers,
For children and soldiers
And for child soldiers,
For cancer patients in Hawaii
And young girls with heart failure,
For the bipolar best friend,
The schizophrenic college student,
The depressed genius,
For dealers and doctors
And for pharmaceutical representatives,
For bombers and beauty queens,
For veterans and their children,
For those who didn’t come back,
For those who aren’t going to,
For musicians who sell out
And those who can’t continue to play,
For writers of fiction
And for readers who believe every word,
For boyfriends and girlfriends,
For best friends and enemies,
For fighters,
For workers,
For strangers,
For the bums and the rich,
For shamans and spirits,
For the ghosts and the shy,
For myself
And for you,
Whoever you are:

I do not have the words to change.
But I have these words.
And, now,
So do you.