Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Age of a lesser man

Age of a lesser man

What happened to those yesterdays that held so much promise. They were filled with struggles and trials that I was unprepared for. I remember when I was younger wondering what tomorrow would bring not knowing that I could take control of it rather than let it drive me down avenues I despised. My worries then seem distant now so much so that that time could be a thousand years ago; and if I met that man would I now be able to help him when he seems more detached than ever from this life.

The past now seems so long ago that I am only left with faded memories and I must ask myself was that a freer time or were those just innocent years. I remember that I never reacted when people tore at me but held all in. I was not one to indulge other peoples needs of shaming others so that they would appear a better person in front of them, instead I stood by breathing in the toxic vapour that they were spewing forth as if it were life giving oxygen. And when people beat me down either verbally or physically I believed it was deserved because I had been told so and when they hated me I believed that was deserved, again because I was told it was deserved; being convinced through years of abuse that I must have done something to initiate such offences when truly the lie was theirs and the belief in the lie belonged to so many thoughtless others, as people often would repeat old fables to justify their inaction or their unconcern for another persons emotions by saying such things as ’it takes two to tango’ meaning somewhere along the line I must also be at fault or they would say ‘you must have done something wrong’ when I had done nothing to deserve such malice; or they would tell me that their malice was a joke and if I was upset by what was said then the fault was mine for not understanding the humour of what was said. And if my complaints to the abuses suffered grew too tiring I would then be told to ‘get a grip’ or to ‘get over it’ or I was told to just ‘be quiet’ that ‘no one cares’, these words would often be thrown at me by people who were the first to complain when less acts of abuse occurred to them; such is the narrow view of this world as people are more than willing to devour others with their words and actions but when they have a reaction, these people often behave as though they are the injured party as though they are the victim. Again such behaviour shows how people centre on themselves and have a lack of empathy for others. It is no wonder that I closed myself off from others or the world that does so much to hate and be angry at others. And over time I lost so many I loved when I realised they did not love me. Those that were family who have over decades attacked me, those that I had thought as friends who had chosen a malicious route to my heart. And as the years passed realisation grew that people really did not consider me an equal or even any other person that they did not have a close personal relationship with. As the things people wanted for themselves were often different to the toxic waste they fed others.

All these people were unknowing of love or its hope; preferring to take hope from others, draining it away as though their lives depended on it, and like leeches they would try to suck the vivacity of life from others; believing in a ‘Dog eat Dog world’ that to them was very real, even though I would inform them that such a world makes everyone a cannibal. You see we are all meant to make each other strong instead of weak, and I observed that after people are made weak they are often blamed for the things they do as a consequence of their weakness, and is that not the way with the world. So hateful is the callous heart that it strives relentlessly to conquer and subdue. People will say and do things of a hateful nature and in their thoughtless calculating manner not care about the harm they do as long as they come to no harm themselves. I feel the sadness of this is that such a lack of empathy shows an increased sense of insecurity; a need on their part to be valued and yet the acts they perpetrate have no value.

All those whether they are an individual or even a state if they have to intimidate oppress or undermine another are behaving in a manner that shows how they cannot cope with their own issues and burdens and instead cast them around at those nearest to them with the same effect as someone hurling stones in a glass house. Not realising that they will in the end be the architects of their own downfall, as people or states like these do not have friends just accomplices who may be bought and sold depending on what is on offer; for such is the pragmatism and cynicism of this world.

Who mourns the Angelos?

When I die do not cover me with comforting words
Do not speak kindly of wasted youth or fettered love
Do not speak softly of harsher times felt
Make instead a trumpet call to passions dead
To wilted flowers lying over sunken bed
And have an honest tongue and say
We punished as it was right to punish
We hated as it was right to hate
We marked and stained as it was right to do so
Knowing that scars do not fade
For they are the reminders of acts played
But still dare you blame the dead
For their lack of life and withered passions

For the cold condemning testimony that endures
For voices unheard and the unspoken word 
When ends their sufferance to hate
The trials and battles fought against fate
And what is left but the reminder of bitter age
Traced across charcoaled page
And then remember this epitaph
What does not live
Can neither love nor forgive

Adam David Papa-Adams © 2012 all rights reserved

For the cold condemning testimony that endures

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