annarino writes

We are all in the ring

or sitting ring-side

ready to bet, cheering and loud.

Our faces are flushed

with the lust to succeed.

It has become every nation’s creed.

The struggle brings 

too much sorrow to contain

in the single, small vessels

that we be.

It is not for me alone that I mourn;

but, for all facing hardships and doubts

only they can know and feel

like blows to the ribs, upper cuts to the jaw,

bruised to the bone,

forlorn and alone.

Have we forgotten how to be

part of a peaceful community,

of teachers and students,

of priests and congregations,

of parents and children,

of even two lovers such as we?

Or, is the struggle meant to be

single combat waged separately?

Every direction I glance I see

a fight-ring where combatants dance.

I take no comfort, feel no glee

in fisted gloves or bare-knuckled fights.

I feel every blow on my own body.

Stop building such rings

and dismantle those we see.

Or, is the betting too lucrative

and are con-men too attractive

to bring to an end

their fronting the purse

we all think we can win,

while they abscond with millions

and tell us great lies?

How could we not have learned

playing chance with fire 

means we all will get burned.

While we fight,

they win.