Life's Lens

As my father lays quietly while poison

Drips into his blood to kill the

Other poison taking over his brain,

His personality, his being

A Chaplin enters and comments how

Such an experience can test one's faith.

Faith? Faith in god? Faith in life?

I do not question why this horror is

Happening, but rather what we are doing

About it.

I do not wonder why god, if he or she exists,

Has allowed such pain to exist.

I question how to love enough that my father

Does not fear his own existence.

I know about faith, for I believed in the concept

From a very young age.

But I no longer hold onto this concept

As a means to control my psychological situation.

I don't have time to feel pity,

For there is a man who has worked

Tirelessly so I can live a "good life" in need of my care.

Faith does not help me,

"Being present" for those in need

Makes an undesirable situation bearable.

I am not knocking those who look at life

Through a lens of faith.

It just is not how

I look at life.

So if you come into the room and see me

Sitting next to my sleeping father, do not

Project your Life's lens onto me;

Instead, listen or leave.