Assassination of a Nation’s Soul
What violence and threat to our democracy
has done to me
cannot be undone, it seems.
I watch the source of so much pain
fall to ground, his right ear maimed.
I wonder at the loss of feeling at such sight.
I try to feel something, anything, even fright.
Instead numbness overtakes my soul.
This does not seem the same to me
as the grief I felt for the John or Bobby Kennedy,
for Martin Luther King, Jr. or Medgar Evers;
Cheney, Schwermer and Goodman;
For Malcom X and Viola Luizzo.
Where did my compassion go?
I wish I could say I know.
Suffering is all the same.
Every human being feels its shame.
Even that I cannot feel
as layer by layer the Constitution unravels,
and freedom’s bell no longer peals.
How far my hope has traveled
beyond court decisions and hateful words
meant to appeal to nameless hordes
by those who speak only for themselves,
cheered by those who fill their empty chords.
Surrounded by narcissistic churls
whose images and taunts unfurl
across media’s many avenues,
such violence seemed inevitable.
And, all he cared about was finding his shoes
as others tried to protect his life,
he struggled against their efforts
exposing them to more danger
so he could rise within their safe embrace
and raise a fist in everyone’s face.
Still, I feel nothing.
Neither sorrow nor joy.
Neither faith nor fear.
Neither love or hate.
Neither hope nor mistrust.
Look at what this man and his supporters
have done to us!
annarino writes 