Whispers in the Night

Something in the night whispers
of moments not lived enough
of days wasted in callous indifference
for ephemerality denied
deprived of its natural power
to move the mountain of ennui
that grows doubtless
in the fecund plains of apathy.

For we did believe --
we walked, we marched,
we defaced streets with slogans
that cried out, though sometimes in vain,
for equity, for justice, for inclusion...
there were times when we did believe
because we could.

Now, sifting through vested interests,
and the insane baying of some
In the fourth estate,
we look for kernels of truth in an
overcrowded pigsty of politics
hoping, without much hope,
that justified true belief
has a chance to survive
though continuously pulled into
a morass of moral drought
an imbroglio, an impasse,
and a quagmire of guilt
by association,
by presence in the wrong place
at the wrong time.