Soliloquy

When they could find no instrument to hand their rage
At, they chose you, and when they felt you served no
Purpose with your messages of love to one’s brother,
They discarded you. Oh, monkey king, they used you
As if you were a toy to whom their fragile emotions
Were tied, and when you felt you had seen enough
And had to intervene, they made you feel invisible.
There could only be room for black or white here.

Your voice was stifled, your creativity was doused
And your actions were lambasted with the fanfare
Of those who knew no joy in life. They chose you
For the ideals they wanted you to embrace, and they
Handed you the weapons with which they wanted
To kill and rape and plunder and burn. They hoped
That your name would sanctify their deeds as it had
Done to those of the king who had failed his wife.

You stood transfixed by the walls of a door you
Had chosen not to enter for years, bemused
And perhaps outraged at this newfound, brash
Infamy that your name had begun to generate.
But you loved them too.

If you like my work, consider visiting my website to get in touch with more of my writing. You can follow me on Twitter as well. Also, sign up for the newsletter to get regular updates coming your way. I would love to talk to you!