526. Coliseum

I long to write, though who will listen,

To the rantings of the insane?

The title merely grants invisibility;

And a face without a name,

In the coliseum of civility.

I wander through the crowds,

In the stands, where spectators watch,

As warriors and politicians,

Earn another scar or notch,

In the holding of their positions.

I stretch my hands out for scraps,

As they shoo me out of sight;

Though from here I see it all,

And know that none of this is right…

And soon all of us will fall.

Be it by starvation, wound, or pride.

We are all part of the show.

I may seem but a distraction,

Yet I’ve gone where others can not go;

And seen every angle of inaction.

For they play their parts quite well,

And the world moves to their plans.

I’ve seen every move and collapse,

As money changes hands,

And they fall in the same traps.

From the outside, I look in,

Year after year…Sin after sin.

I hold my voice, and hold my breath.

No one’s listening, so who can win?

We stand aside until death.

I look at you. Do you see me?

Are you looking? What do you see?

God’s play games, as day absconds.

Are you a God, or are you me?

Do you play games with human pawns?

For who can win an endless game?

And who can fight our mortal fate?

Though, in my eyes you’d find the sun,

So listen well, it’s getting late.

This entertainment is not fun!

And this game you can not win!

The only money, worth it, to spend,

Is found in the outstretched hand.

For the show continues long after curtain descends…

And only in the heart of another could you understand,…

All we have is each other in the end.

K. Aldaya, 10/7/20

Picture: By: Jorge Fernandez Salas on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/hvxJ2cnecd4

491. Ride

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right height,

Though no one seems to notice,

That none of this is right.

“Sit down and hold on tight.”

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She flies from her seat.

No belt or bar’s safe enough,

To keep her on her feet.

*Claps* “What a lovely treat!”

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right age.

Her hands, they begin to slip…

Suffering is the wage,

For not fitting the gauge.

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She is unable,

To ride without being hurt.

Don’t assign her a table.

She’s more than a label.

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right height,

And though no one understands,

That this danger’s not trite.

Risking lives should never be alright,…

In the rush to fill seats, and go…

On with your own.

K. Aldaya, 9/15/19

Picture: By: Annie at Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/DurGX0B94mg

485. Everyone Tells You Not to Die

Everyone tells you not to die,

And then they walk away.

Who should be blamed at the end,

When no one was willing to stay,…

Around.

Everyone tells you not to die,

Yet who’ll help you to live?

Who would stay around and try,

When there’s only so much life to live…

On Earth?

Everyone may say you should live,…

Though most will let you die.

K. Aldaya, 8/21/19

Picture: By: Chuttersnap on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/RlC1eHzJOFI

461. This is Your Life!

Society wants to throw us away.

“You do not matter”, that’s what they say.

If you ask for some help to get by.

Everyone questions: “What?”…”But why?”.

Society wants to throw us away.

“You are a burden”, that’s what they say.

If you can not hold down a job,

“You are a terrible, lazy, fat-slob!”.

Society wants to throw us away,

“You are worth nothing”, that’s what they say.

Well, you know what? Who cares what they say!

Why should their words matter anyway?

Were they there when you cried on your bed.

Would they care at all if you lost your head?

If you said you couldn’t live anymore,

Would any of them come to your door?

Society wants to throw us away.

“You do not matter”, that’s what they say.

Well, guess what? Who cares what they say!

Whose life is this anyway?

No, not theirs…today’s your day!

“Your life matters!”,…

That’s what I say!

K. Aldaya, 11/12/18

Picture: https://sexandrelationshiphealing.com/blog/sexual-abuse-sexual-shame-and-sexual-addiction/

436. “We”

We work in the shadows with an air of civility,

Dropping the pants of a world undisclosed;

Where eyes vilify the skirted and clothed,

For breeding the sins of the overexposed.

We move softly in the shadows eclipsed by “the unsaid”.

With the weight of morality on our backs.

We amend with checks and our very souls,

As we drift namelessly, and fall through the cracks.

We’re the shame and mortification of being alive.

Our breasts, and sex, are man’s nature denied.

Shunned from the sun and logical discourse;

The raw…the real…the gospel lost inside…

Mirrors heedless of reflection.

K. Aldaya, 4/13/18

Picture: http://www.harbus.org/2018/what-women-want/