[A reply to a poem by PepperDust on SFFmuse. Her poem involved an adult telling a child how bad the world was, and the child's reply that it wasn't that bad. I had this urge to continue their dialogue, and did so.]
All those things you speak of
Are jut lies told in vain,
The play of muscle and bone
Just another word for pain.
Listen to me, little whelp,
All we have is sorrow
And sometimes our only hope
Is for no tomorrow.
Listen now, you little snot,
The world's a fairy tale
Full of murder and of lies
That drive men to ale.
Listen, before I box your ears,
Of the truth people gloss:
Life can't be joy and won't be love -
We only grow through loss.
Listen to me, little lad,
All I've said is true
Now stop your damn smiling -
I'll beat you black and blue.
I thank you for your lesson,
though it was in vain
You've old and tired and all you know
Is sadness, loss, and pain.
Your world ended so long ago
You wish this one would too
But al I know of sympathy
Tell me that's not true.
Hurting me won't change the world
Or the way I feel
I just wish the world you knew
Wasn't at all real.
My only wish, O teacher, is
To take another's pain
But if all I can do is hold a hand
It won't have been in vain.
Even if I'm reduced to tears
And right down to prayer
At least someone else will know
That I truly do care.
Compassion is my cross to bear
Holding another's pain
Not judging nor explaining
Just something mundane:
Letting them know that I cannot share
But can at least still grieve,
Listening to their words of fears
And helping them believe
In a world where people sit and stay
And never, ever leave.
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