Other People’s Lives

Late at night my dreams are crowded aside
by tumult arising from concerns from without:
mothers whose daughters are hotboxed
in bars and trucks by uncaring fathers;
dads whose children are used as pawns
in order to exact revenge for lost love.

These personal woes obsess my night thoughts
and perpetuate violence on peace of mind
because they do not come from the news
but are suppliants of my earnest endeavors
and command my full attention far beyond
those waking hours for which we bargained.

How easy it is for others to tune out cries
of sincere fears held in shaking breasts -
parents who may not be innocent themselves
yet whose voices are raised for defense
of the innocence every child should have -
if only these cries would lack the barbs I feel.

Yet my inner ear cannot deafen itself
to the consequences of failure on these,
the least capable of defending themselves;
so my candle of peace becomes trimmed,
flares with anguish in the horror of knowing
that the law cares not for the indefensible.