Wheat
It’s facile to turn your back on the turmoil
to walk away from the disarray
forego the risks of reaching out into the morass
to hands that could be holding deadly daggers
Separating the wheat from the chaff
can be a challenge
differentiating the stalkers and gawkers
from the sincere merely searching
for a kindred soul with whom they feel safe
sharing what is dredged up from deep within
Paralyzing poison of the past
that must be processed to put to rest their pain
Dreams that drive them to go on for one more day
and the next after that
when they’ve known nothing but darkness
thick and viscous
that threatens to drown them in its depths
The hopes they desperately hold onto
as they shiver in an icy sea of melancholy
This small screen my only window to witness this world
in all its ugliness, grandeur and glory
My only means of sharing my story
My wallet empty and my prospects few
my words all I have to offer you
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