Torpor
Apathy over
empathy.
And so we stall,
Bleeding out to
our humanity.
An erasure
of leaves.
An invisibility so deathlike
We fear its reflection.
The bullied
boy sits alone
With an empty blackboard.
Is this
what we teach?
And the bully walks into adulthood,
His deeds
and words unchecked.
A parasite,
shapeshifting
Into a conscious form
With all
the bells and whistles that
make a man.
Copyright Vickie
Johnstone, June 5, 2020
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