A selective empathetic is a more sinister evil than the outright unempathetic. The unempathetic is quite small in numbers, and are under more scrutiny. The selective empathetic is one of reflective desire, picking and choosing those to be glad for and wishing to prosper based off of desired personal gain, gain that involves putting others down in the process. This level of empathy is pure submission to outside preachers, outside systems, media, literature, art, and economics, and represents a dark and fallible inner sense. Letting things simply happen, apathetic to their greater truth, nihilistic in meaning, and a walking product of guiding forces around them. A pure empathetic is empathetic to all in all situations, noticing the humanity in all. It is sad to notice the selective empathetic being a prevalent and lauded endeavor, when the qualities of such selective empathetic are thought of also as manipulation. A great contradiction in social morality and personal character judgeme
He trudged through the dancing thicket
His mind was on a tasteful brew
In the distance was a singing cricket
On his arms blood drew
Boastful was the night
His eyes were blinded
A roaring fire in sight
His legs were binded
Approaching cabin fever,
The residents saw the man.
He signaled to the weaver,
A white flag in his hand.
The man came closer,
His weakness tied his chest.
Fear was the composer,
The man fell to rest.
Inside the residents were in dismay.
A wife turned to her spouse.
Night soon turned to day.
No one left the house.
There were three young men in blue.
Of them, Jay was the only adult.
Younger than twenty were the other two,
They looked at Jay to exalt.
The house belonged to a couple
Kids' toys were on the floor
The winter made hours supple
Jay and the two looked at the door
The man outside lay face-down
He appeared sickly
The cabin was far from town
He needed help quickly.
Finally, Jay left to get him
A violent snowstorm blurred his vision.
But the man was in gray trim,
Jay had to make a decision.
His gut told him to help
His mind told him to leave
Tears in his eyes yelp
He wiped them on his sleeve.
The man was hurt
And Jay could save him
With the devil he flirt
The light stay dim
Time was running out
Jay grabbed the man's arm
His ears popped doubt
And his nose breathed alarm
He rushed in and brought him to the couch
The man so hurt he couldn't move
He moved his arm and yelled "OUCH!"
The rest of the group didn't approve.
~ ~ ~
The man lay healing until finally awake
The others watched him with caution
One wrong move would be a huge mistake
The man noticed he wasn't in a coffin
As the man woke he looked at Jay
Jay's face was dark, clear and broad
The man sat without a thing to say
His confusion in a wad
Later that night they ate dinner together.
The room was silent
Hell transmuted the weather
The last desire was violent
Finally, Jay spoke up
"Are you okay?"
The man retorted, "yup,"
His face made of clay.
Jay gave the man his meal.
The man thanked him kindly.
Vicarious emotions they feel
Their trust developed blindly.
But Jay invited him to the table
For there was a feast of life
The man found he was able
And left behind his strife
They joyed together as a family should
And the rough situation turned gleaming.
They learned of the man's good
His nicety was redeeming
~ ~ ~
The morning approached
Hope sprang in the air
Jay held the confederate coach
Far away was a drummer's snare
The young troopers ventured forth
On their radar, Bull Run.
From South Carolina, it was North
The man's life had begun
He said he'd rethought the reason he went
The young troopers did too.
Jay was black and had a southern accent,
His uniform was fully blue.
The man's name was Bill,
And he was in desperate need.
Jay had every reason to kill,
But his heart was the one to lead.
There was hugging and crying,
and the young troops said goodbye.
Bill wiped his eyes sighing,
and left for home to make apple pie.
~ ~ ~
An owl howled midnight
There was a foul stench
The mind of mystery men less bright
Tired and rotting in a trench.
Bill trudged forth with a high fever
His last thoughts floated away
A fearful man pulled the leaver,
For good now, Bill lay.
Comments
Post a Comment