Finding the Line

There is a line 

Some days 

It can be hard to find 

Amid the constant clamor 

In the days following 

Still in the rawness of it 

There was fear bordering panic

There was anger and rage 

There was confusion and hatred 

There was a misleading unity 

There was a quickness to blame 

And a slowness to understand 

There was a malingering suspicion 

There was, facing the world 

In full and living color 

The worst of us 

Yet, there was unity 

There was community 

There was determination and resolve 

There was a national pride  

There were, in those days 

(And seems to still be) 

Fear mongers and hope bringers 

Filling the airways 

There is a line 

Some days 

It can be hard to find 

Amid the constant clamor 

The line is between 

Panic and ignorance 

Hatred and delusion 

Fear and oblivion 

It is vigilance 

Without prejudice 

It is caution 

With respect 

It is revering 

Those who lost their lives

And those who sacrificed theirs 

To save others 

It is communities 

Helping communities 

It is one nation 

Indivisible 

It is a line for all 

Patriots, globalists 

All genders, all sexualities 

All races, all creeds 

Every day 

I strive to find the line 

And especially today 

September 11

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

September 11, 2023

The Obituary of Caring

When caring dies 

It will not be from a gaping wound 

It will not be from a sudden gushing 

It will not be a traumatic event 

It will happen 

From one small cut 

Of a thousand thousand cuts 

The bleeding will be only slight 

But one of those drops 

Will carry the last of caring 

That drop 

Will be indistinguishable 

From the rest of the blood 

Leaving a drop at a time 

It will pass mostly unnoticed 

Until the next time caring is needed 

And there is none to be found 

The last of caring has gone 

In its place is a quiet malaise 

The dull sorrow of human empathy 

As one would feel for a hurting stranger 

Will step into the place caring resided 

A disconnected concern will reign 

Try as one might 

 Concern will not attach 

It will not grow into caring 

It will stand outside the heart 

Its burden, if any, will be carried in the mind 

Memory will provide a proper response 

A dead act for a dead emotion 

Empathy becomes apathy 

Caring becomes concern 

Sorrow becomes sadness 

A shoulder becomes a place for tears 

Rather than a place to share a burden 

Without a place to reside 

The reason is left behind 

The pain leaves the mind 

Nearly as soon as we walk away 

There is no tether 

There is no bond 

Some day before today 

Caring died 

 

© Ron Simpson, Jr.

Revised September 2, 2023