As a person who once trusted most everyone to be their authentic selves, I now find myself questioning who some of my friends might really be. I’m not saying they are bad people, only that their silence causes me discomfort.
to interact with composure
and compassion,
is disappearing.
Sarcasm and cruelty
have risen as the norm -
politicians speak crudely,
while people post comments
stripped of empathy for hardship,
proud in their ignorance,
echoing the leaders they follow.
This world wears me out.
The masks, now removed,
have uncovered the truth.
Had it been there all along?
Who within my circle
was pretending to be kind,
holding hostility inside
like a pressure valve
ready to blow?
Whom can I trust?
I struggle to make sense of it.
Some friends post
Jesus-loaded content
but seem to overlook suffering.
I wonder if they notice the harm
that grows in their silence.
Do their public selves align
with the compassion their words profess?
I don’t understand
how love can stay quiet
when harm is so loud.
Then there are those
who no longer hide,
who live their hatred
out loud, boldly.
Those I can avoid.
Those who love money
more than country,
more than people,
trouble me,
especially the ones
who hold their Bible in one hand
and their hammer in the other.
They can’t take it with them.
Do their earthly treasures
outweigh the suffering
of those less fortunate?
I wish there were a way
to see the truth inside each person,
to know what lies beneath
their smiles and happy photos.
Do their public selves reveal
the private truths that live within?
The loud, ugly ones are easy.
They show their hand.
It is the silent ones
who worry me.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 12 times
Written on 2026-02-03 at 17:10
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The Silent Ones
Basic civility as a way to be,to interact with composure
and compassion,
is disappearing.
Sarcasm and cruelty
have risen as the norm -
politicians speak crudely,
while people post comments
stripped of empathy for hardship,
proud in their ignorance,
echoing the leaders they follow.
This world wears me out.
The masks, now removed,
have uncovered the truth.
Had it been there all along?
Who within my circle
was pretending to be kind,
holding hostility inside
like a pressure valve
ready to blow?
Whom can I trust?
I struggle to make sense of it.
Some friends post
Jesus-loaded content
but seem to overlook suffering.
I wonder if they notice the harm
that grows in their silence.
Do their public selves align
with the compassion their words profess?
I don’t understand
how love can stay quiet
when harm is so loud.
Then there are those
who no longer hide,
who live their hatred
out loud, boldly.
Those I can avoid.
Those who love money
more than country,
more than people,
trouble me,
especially the ones
who hold their Bible in one hand
and their hammer in the other.
They can’t take it with them.
Do their earthly treasures
outweigh the suffering
of those less fortunate?
I wish there were a way
to see the truth inside each person,
to know what lies beneath
their smiles and happy photos.
Do their public selves reveal
the private truths that live within?
The loud, ugly ones are easy.
They show their hand.
It is the silent ones
who worry me.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 12 times
Written on 2026-02-03 at 17:10
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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