If no one sees
it, it never really happened.
Never could be proved as the real truth .
And so if no one sees him do it, he is safe.
Safe from any punishment or sorrowful indemnity.
Safe from the responsibility of choices in his life.
Easy then for him to reassume his awful mask
of innocence. Ordered and preserved since puberty.
Pretending that he couldn't see the pain that they
endured because of him. The altar boy would
never tell those tales of the wine his father offered.
The lies still thrived within his withered mind.
Hidden behind images of blinds.
Thief of love. A murderer of joy.
Dumping yet more darkness on the mass
that he'd employed to see him through.
He claimed that he had paid his dues.
The golden chalice hid within the tabernacle still.
Seeing through and through the vestments worn.
A tree fell in the forest, and today its dying torment
held the world of mankind deep within its grip.
No camera taped the great catastrophe.
Withstanding even that, somehow, the people
groped and came to see the feelings
of his secret and yet haunting apathy...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .