It is odious, he thought, to awaken this way.
A morning is rebirth
and should come with refreshed joy,
not the weight of yesterday.
Tired, bone tired, his heart still heavy
with the sadness that comes from understanding
that but for one,
he had finally found a place he loved and could call home.
It would be well, he thought, to let this one be.
To choose his own happiness, his own way.
Yet this one seeks him out wherever he may go,
darkening any joy he might find here,
among these people, these places.
To be left alone was not enough, he would have to hide
and that is not his nature.
To be less than made more painful
by choosing to be less than.
If anyone else cared enough to move this ill on,
to stand against the history for a better way,
that would be all that is required.
But no one else cares enough to stand.
Better to remain silent than be noticed and risk.
So another leaves, another comes,
the water rippled for a moment,
then again it is as if nothing happened.
Its all good.
Until one becomes a majority
greater than this one who is a majority
this place remains dimly lit. Nothing will grow here.
Everyone becomes used to living in silence
watching the others fall,
the water ripple,
and things remaining the same.
Why is it always this way?
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