As If

Angry

This doesn't say exactly what the poem
does, but it's part of it.

that the world
is not the way
that it should be,
could be,
if the world
would only listen
to his wisdom
to her common sense,
as if it might depend
on him, on her,
on you,
on me.
As if it was
his problem that
politicos are idiots.
her daughter's irresponsible,
your boss's ethics aren't the best,
I want, I need, I'd rest far
easier to know
that children aren't abducted,
crying, hungry and alone,
to feed them,
tuck them in at night.
But there might be, no,
there would be
others, always,somewhere,
who don't know a mother's love.
You vote one out of office,
and another takes his place.
You watch a child take
three steps forward,
four steps back, you do
your job or leave it,
maybe turn the boss in, get
the sack, you feed the children
in your care and trust that
somewhere, someone else
will see a need and meet it.
Not much,
really,
just depends on you.
Much less
than what
most people think.
So little.
Perhaps if I can focus
on that microscopic
tiny world of
things I can control
and fix and do
and make a difference,
and you decide to do
the same,
the anger will
find ways to dissipate,
its energy relaxed
into a calming
flow
of
peace
that gets more done,
accomplishes, creates,
and heals far more
than anger
ever could.




(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015


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