Mutual Misery

‘Tis said that easily woe finds its way
to gravitate towards a kindred wound
and, found, rejoices in the unity
of heretofore strangers joined by pity

they could not have felt for neither self nor
company. Exchanging disappointments
never had a worthier diversion
until shared by innocent retelling

of the past that crisscrossed perceived failures
with surprised delight. Who best to render
judgment without bias but whose values
have been shot as never to amount as

hot. How odd that in the analysis
of standards their audience took for granted
their simplicity because parochial
and clad in iron disciplinary

gut. They even now have time to banter
and laugh as they look back. The eccentric
were not they. They did not only beg to
differ. They knew their conscience better than

dictated will as well. They chose the path
the others eschewed as unpopular
because unique. And trodden by those who,
like them, have certitude egged on by faith.

So let them catcall, crow and even curse
behind their front more than the meaner back.
There is no prayer for a mirror that
reflects only the synonym of wrath.

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avatar About Abraham de la Torre

I'm married to a lovely, loving woman who blessed me with two wonderful sons. Poetry is my passion, even if it's on a mood level. Like, I'm a geyser one moment and drained the next. Each outpouring, however, is a personal testament to truth, a poem being empty were it phony. I got the genes from my Dad, who passed away, in 2003, at 77. He was my most avid audience. There are other inspiring sources but Dad was the darnedest. Instead of miss him, I fill the void with verses.

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