Homeless

In a crystalline fog they are the accusation of our indifference.

We sit on concrete ignorance and cannot see them nor wish to know of their breadth and scope, yet they are there like a silent accusation of our own hypocrisy.

You could say that there is no solution but we know it’s a lie.

You could say I have no power but it’s a lie.

You could say that they are there and if they chose they would not be, but it’s a lie.

So their existence slide by as we pass and consider the next comfort or respite but the accusation remains.

We chose not to do what we know is the right thing to do.

We chose not to obey the morals we so effortlessly espouse

We chose not to acknowledge our own part in this drive by climate

We chose to white wash our own better angels in small gestures during guilt alieving holidays.

I am no better than you, for my soul shouts in condemnation and I am my own hearts executioner. If I could point the finger of blame then I will begin it with myself and slowly outstretch my arm extending it to indite us all.

if we chose, this could end in the space it would take to breathe in summers heady perfume

if we choose, the concrete sitters would be lifted from their hard perch and encircled with the honesty of notice and care.

If we choose, houses would be built, coffers would be opened, doors swung wide, and abundance shared.

If we choose, dignity would be restored amongst sitter and passer and a new verse would be written.

If we choose, the blue pearl on which we ride would lift its collective voice in celebration of the sanctity of human compassion and human dignity uplifted.

So they sit and we cruise until we strike the first note and a new music replaces the cold crystalline air

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