wiping blood of his daughters from the ceiling
of their crumbled bedroom. “These are their weapons -
These books. These papers!”
“I shall not hate,”
says the old professor,
writing story after story of the gas chambers
that swallowed his mother,
working a lifetime to turn truth into myth,
into something other than piles of bones.
“I shall not hate,”
says the student standing
before a bulldozer that will strike her tender body,
a fatal bruising and breaking
because she believes that people
deserve to live lives in homes
of their own.
Every day
you run a marathon in pursuit of
happiness,
new music,
interesting books and big decisions like whether or not to buy mangoes
out of season your only defense
from the emptiness of this existence
of ease and hatred.
Get busy and love.
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