To Set Aside Cynicism

A poem…

 

Walk out the door and cynics can be fed

The grinding grim happiness of morning media grins

There’s a path down which to be led

They have, like many, their job that spins and spins

 

Cities bear the scars of their divides, history, temporal walls built from centuries’ toil

Aware of it all the cynics are as they whizz by in whatever metal box

They hear “All you see is heartache, all you do is spoil”

To be a cynic is to be placed in the faux optimists’ stocks

 

There remains the dream – become a true optimist instead

Be aware of the pain, but work for emotional gain

Bring some joy, not lock plans of it in your head

Bring some absolute empathy while others feign

 

There is the rub

How to gather this spirit before you reach the hub