Little Things

Little Things

I dislike people who are cruel

for no reason at all

but those I will not forgive,

never forgive at all,

are those who see

a suffering thing,

a frightened thing,

a quivering thing,

a cowering thing,

and decide, for no reason they can define,

that weak little thing needs to die.

What we do

with little things

with timid, crippled

withered things,

this is what defines us

not just as people

but as a species.

All those frightened things,

those hiding, crying things

Who look at us like titans

And think...

...please God let them be nice.

These little things who do not come to life easily?

These are our charges, the measuring rods of our decency

We could build an empire,

steel streets, smog choking skies!

Shining towers and neon lights,

span the stars with our iron might!

Bind the heavens and make them kneel

before the metal will that drives our heel!

What use might little things have

For a world that knows nothing but wrath?

We could build an empire

an empire that would humble the heavens,

what’s it worth if we build it on the bones

of little things whose wide wet eyes

pleaded with us ‘fore their red demise?

What’s it worth if we can’t feel the hurt

when we’re stomping those little things

into the dirt?

What use have little things

for a world of boiling blood?

What use have little things

for a world of men

that have forgotten how to love?

I fear a world without little things,

for I fear it is a world that can’t be saved.