When laughter leaves, the kindness that remains
is incidental to civility,
the bland politeness, the ability
to feign that graciousness is what sustains
when underneath, the captive anger reigns
and finding life in possibility
increases hope's invisibility
as once-firm knowledge of will's freedom wanes.
When years have passed in blind submission's care,
can passion reignite when backs unbend
and legs, long crumpled, learn at last to dance?
No fortitude (however sure) can bear
the pain of ancient wounds none cared to mend
that could be healed by but one loving glance.