I have managed to flip my fear inside out.
Now you don't recognize it,
Now it looks like anger:
It ravages everything around me,
And everyone..
Could it all be something else?
All the empathy and the compassion?
Is it only because last century it was me
That was the child in fear?
Of the same terror, rolling its aRs
And mangling our 7as,
Like the flight of death?
I think of the one I love:
Was all his resentment only
Because, a decade or two ago,
He too was the child in fear,
Abandoned like all the children
Now ravaging our screens?
And what becomes of it?
All this fear? All this apathy?
All these angry childish stares?
What remains when the faces are gone?
