Promise Broken

September 2

PROMISE BROKEN

If promise shatters without anyone touching it, if it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost its cohesion, what do I do?  Name names?  I can’t even take fingerprints.  Sometimes dreams just end.  No fault or blame is attached.  The ice breaks under its own weight and nothing can be done.  I am more than just holding on.  I am alive even if all the promises melt away.  I can accept the unexpected and the unasked for and still know this doesn’t affect my worth.  My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.  I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement; promises are pleasantries. I am made of stronger stuff. I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.  Promise can be broken but it doesn’t break me.

Open the mental crayon box.

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Where’s Your Chair?

Is the ring more unnatural for the tamer or the lion?

One the trapped, the other the trapper.

Who is the more in danger;

the one with loss of freedom

or the one with possible loss of life?

And while this question is still in play

the next question is begged.  Why is there a ring?

What is worth the price paid

by the whip holder or the whipped?

Spectacle is a thing whose cost

reaches from the forest to the trees;

can take you from the highest rung

down to your knees.

All this lost for some Owwe’s and Ah’s

from people needing diversion

from the ring they turn tricks in.