Kindness
People talk about kindness
like it’s some quaint museum piece
locked in a glass box
labeled Do Not Touch.
Everyone’s too damn busy
guarding their tiny kingdoms…
their egos, their screens,
their fragile little piles of nothing…
to bother lifting a finger for anyone else.
They walk around clenched,
teeth grinding,
eyes darting like cornered rats,
terrified someone might
cut in line,
steal their spotlight,
take a scrap of the misery
they’ve hoarded for themselves.
Kindness?
Forget it.
Takes too much honesty,
too much backbone,
too much admitting
that we’re all stumbling through the same burning maze.
So instead we snarl,
we bluff,
we shove our way through each day
like angry drunks in a bar
that ran out of booze.
And maybe that’s the sick joke
that people aren’t cruel
because they’re strong,
but because they’re exhausted,
hollow,
scared to death
that if they give even a teaspoon of softness,
the whole damn facade
will just… crack open
and the world will see
how breakable they really are.
Yeah
kindness is hard these days.
Not because we’re monsters,
but because we’re cowards…
pretending we’re not.
