I long to write, though who will listen,
To the rantings of the insane?
The title merely grants invisibility;
And a face without a name,
In the coliseum of civility.
I wander through the crowds,
In the stands, where spectators watch,
As warriors and politicians,
Earn another scar or notch,
In the holding of their positions.
I stretch my hands out for scraps,
As they shoo me out of sight;
Though from here I see it all,
And know that none of this is right…
And soon all of us will fall.
Be it by starvation, wound, or pride.
We are all part of the show.
I may seem but a distraction,
Yet I’ve gone where others can not go;
And seen every angle of inaction.
For they play their parts quite well,
And the world moves to their plans.
I’ve seen every move and collapse,
As money changes hands,
And they fall in the same traps.
From the outside, I look in,
Year after year…Sin after sin.
I hold my voice, and hold my breath.
No one’s listening, so who can win?
We stand aside until death.
I look at you. Do you see me?
Are you looking? What do you see?
God’s play games, as day absconds.
Are you a God, or are you me?
Do you play games with human pawns?
For who can win an endless game?
And who can fight our mortal fate?
Though, in my eyes you’d find the sun,
So listen well, it’s getting late.
This entertainment is not fun!
And this game you can not win!
The only money, worth it, to spend,
Is found in the outstretched hand.
For the show continues long after curtain descends…
And only in the heart of another could you understand,…
All we have is each other in the end.
K. Aldaya, 10/7/20