It was one of those decisive moments,
a crossroads, a fulcrum,
one way she’d start afresh,
tear herself from the culture of theft, and death
and crime and sucking pride from the snatch,
which her father beat into her as a religion,
and her mother died while it preaching,
and all her siblings, and uncles and cousins
and aunts lived to the bone, the joint, the knife,
but she’d break free at last,
finally living decent, a little clean and simple -
without the spite and blood
now honest living and letting go of wrongs
and settling down eventually and having kids,
five in all despite the frowns of white collars
‘coz she’d love them and enjoy the nest;
while the other way she’d play along
choose to repress the doubts she had,
to throw away the guilt of a conscience
she’d slowly been building, and to hate,
to curse like all her family did
those who crossed the path of them
and so she’d float around,
task to task, grasp to grasp
never finding love except in fleeting moments
that weren’t genuine at all,
she’d hurt but forget the art of tears
since the dead don’t grieve;
and there she stood, would you believe,
at the crossroads of a lifetime,
the fulcrum of a story,
and it all depended on the word of a single man,
all he’d need to do is speak kindly then,
affirm the inklings to better path she had,
the self she really was,
but would you believe he screwed it up,
all business like he spoke blunt and harsh
and tossed her aside, not meaning to kill
but to leave the kindness for another time;
but too late the time had passed, she made her fate,
he slapped it down and pointed to the worser way -
all unknowingly of course - yet that was it,
the moment she would have changed at last,
the tipping point, but time had passed,
generally not so bad you know, since usually
there are many points to alter course,
to choose to live anew,
but we’re seeing it from the final view,
eternal view, from stance of things that already are,
and it makes one wonder, marvel, tremble, fear
at the power of a single word,
at the value of a moment,
the necessity of love.
י | Π
