(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

That Message

A messenger's only obligation,
Is to deliver the message.
Not to explain the contents.
The credibility of the sender.
Or the importance of it sent.

Anyone who receives the message,
Unimpressed how the messenger looks.
Or dresses.
Misses the message.
And the contents of it,
They should address.
Instead of displaying,
The ease of their disrespect.

"You've done your job.
Now you can go back,
From where you came from."

Time passes.
People laugh and joke,
About those they've disparaged.
Lives begin to diminish.
As the rise of indifference,
And division begins.
Bigotry and racism is presented.
Representing timeless ignorance.
A downward slide,
To their quality of life.
Is blame on diversity.
And those nonwhite.

Yet...
Those who witness sit and watch.
Accepting their excuses made.
To share between them to do nonstop.
Although preventing the mess,
They could have long ago,
Made attempts to do.
They continue to listen,
To the ones starting conflicts.
With an assistance given...
Igniting confusion done to not refuse.

"What is going on in this World today?
It has become a complete mess.
Who in their right mind,
Would allow this to happen? "

-Who knows.
Here's your coffee.
It's warm right now.
Drink it before it gets cold.-

"What is that stuck,
To the bottom of the cup?
Give it to me."

-It looks like a note of some kind.
I'll throw it away.-

"No.
Read to me what it says."

-It says...
Don't wait until it is too late.
You can prevent the mess.
If you don't hesitate.-

"That makes no sense at all.
Here.
Throw it away.
Is that protest rally today?
Or tomorrow? "

-It was yesterday.
We both missed it.-

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