It's
impossible to ignore. The terrorist attacks, bold and unrepentant.
The gang deaths. The day to day danger of inhabiting a city.
Fighting, threats, a sense of danger that we can surely no longer
gloss over.
We
should be looking out for each other, protecting our
communities, sheltering the vulnerable. Even away from the extremes
of recent events, suffering should not be a currency of abundance. I
write these words with so much hope for what the bravery and
resourcefulness of humanity can be. I see police, paramedics and
others charged with the city's safety, and it's beyond amazing how
selfless they are.
Then I look at myself, and I fear that, though my
soul be damned, I would (as would most) hastily step past. I would
pray to be unmolested, unseen in the shadows, and allowed to continue
my life without the same foul trauma I witnessed befalling me.
I
would see the marks of abuse and I would move my eyes to another
smooth patch of skin. I would hear the pitiful cries of a hound kept
under the baking sun, with no water, and I would make excuses
for the beast's owner. I would watch a thief slip their hand into a
purse like a silent snake, and I would freeze and stare and wonder
what to do. I would see murder, mugging, rape and all things
unconscionable, yet my arms would remain limp and my tongue still.
In
the light, amongst the laughter of friends, I would boast of my
bravery. As they would of theirs. And we would gift each other false
echoes of our virtuosity, each understanding our true stance, but
shying from voicing those truths in case a higher power discovers our
wickedness.
And
whilst we relate falsehoods, those we claim to be willing to protect
sink further into despair, unaware that anyone even noticed their
plight at all.
All
I can do is try to be better.
Flatt7
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