Right of Passage

I'd never seen the vile nature of violence. 

In my troubled little town I guess it was 

still quite abstract; that's not to detract

from the problems back home... but. 

It was something to see a boot in the face

and the bewildering indifference of

the scurrying crowds, crossing streets,

entering offices. 

My God, I swore, under my breath - 

this whole damn city is walking by

as he's beaten to death, yet, 

so am I. 

The meek will inherit a dangerous

drug addiction and then they'll have

the warm air kicked out of their lungs

when debts accrue, the angry

hue of the dealer. 

We live in a wasteland in so many

ways and we left our empathy to

decay; when did we all become

New Yorkers, absolute antipathy

in the face of horror. 

Trickle. 

Trickle. 

Spatter. 

Pattern. 

The only thing necessary

for the triumph of evil is for

good men to do nothing,

watching out of door ways