A Whistleblower’s Tale
Getting the better of themselves
Curiosity guides their gaze;
Like window shoppers,
They peer in on pain
Without sampling its effects.
Humanesque faces shove and press
Against the windows.
She feels like a sideshow freak
Entertainment for stranger beings than herself.
How do you know you love someone if you don’t want to risk your life or health for them. People don’t even stand by each other when a person is ill or injured from whatever cause. I’ve been accused so many times of being too outspoken, rash, too passionate, too sensitive and yet it’s still to me better than the alternative. Such comments bore me to tears. I do not and cannot fathom the attitudes of others unless they are “stranger beings than myself.”
If-I-can was a friend to Doubting Thomas
His disbelief at his own reflection
Was enough to mar anyone’s outlook.
But-I-can was related – an older brother I think;
Or maybe a cocky younger.
No matter, the difference between them
Wasn’t that great.
And-I-Will was their cousin
Who talked such and awful lot;
And-I-must being his sister
Who you already know.
And-You-will and And-You-Must
Being their parents.
Their nephew, And-You-know
Is my brother, twice removed from me now
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