Mistakes & Meanings

Neglect, clear twenty years ago,

resulted in the loss of invaluable lessons

that shaped the future.

Back then, nobody knew it yet,

all smothered in a lack of respect.

Salvation for all rested solely upon one element

but nobody dared to look at it,

squashed in shed, rear, as out front

more important things had to thrive:

the house, the flowers, the job, the car.

These were physical demands.

Neighbours needed reassurance that things were fine.

They cannot suspect that the foundation of the house is shaking.

Loud shouts heard from the window

stained the surrounding air with blue.

The house endured years of stability and fortitude,

housing people who were beggars for feelings.

They quashed every creative thought at the outset,

no one ever spoke good words aloud.

They had to guess their meaning from faces or absence,

uncertainty prevailed, with a constant sense of happening.

This way, their looks judged everyone,

never delving deeper for true meaning.

Meanwhile, the genuine beauty of the meaning blossomed,

quietly growing unseen.

Each time it attempted to emerge and attract attention,

someone stole, exploited, or abused it.

Yet it persisted, strengthening over the years.

The others wouldn't have known unless they inquired.

And as they posed the wrong questions,

deceit laced their responses.

They also lied intentionally,

weaving a false reality, much like in a story.

Life's not a story, a fact they forget,

washing sins clean on a church pew they've set.

“This is the sole path,” they profess, their gains ensuing.

Supporters flocking, like criminals with their clan.

Yet they cannot recall, one error will breed,

ignorance and hatred, a harvest they won't read.