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Born From This
Who were these people?
Those who committed such casual cruelty?
It wasn't a minority either but the majority.
There are too many accounts of pain and sorrow to be otherwise.
Was man another species altogether then?
Without empathy, lacking basic human compassion.
I listen to the wind howl from ago,
watch it vomit the times past, our past, making my bowels grow hot and liquid. A sickness in my belly and in my bones.
Born from this! Born from this.
Change is too slow. It could have been me, I think with dread, with disbelief. Never! I think.
That hatred or even apathy was on most tongues, in most hearts.
I imagine my hand tight around a whip, the metallic taste of chains in sweaty palms, the rough calloused hands that work a rope.
I imagine ripping a child from a mothers breast, denying him food, denying them all humanity.
The anger and betrayal I feel for those who lived off the sweat and pain of others is overwhelming.
Could I have done such loathsome acts?
Remove the top layer of soil, of earth, dig down to yesterday…am I there?
Who were they, these beasts who prey on the weak and downtrodden?
Were they you?
Were they me?
Copyright ©
Crystol Woods
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