Photo: Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash
It has become
A flag
To wave.
An identity to wrap oneself with
As permission to denounce
The Other.
Casting off compassion for some
As if it would occupy the space needed for
Zero sum care.
History versions, auctioned
To the highest bidder.
Adulterated variations for a fee
In ratings, rage, and righteousness.
The molested Truth
Auctioned off.
Her hands bound
Her essence starved
Of air
And light
Or hope.
Her very humanity
Splayed
Vulnerable,
On the block.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Auction in 78 words
Na'ama Yehuda 
So moving Na’ama
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Thank you, Sadje. There is so much raw pain in the world these days, and so much of it is enabled by those who contour and counter and conjure what they call ‘truth’, to their agendas, often at the terrible cost to many.
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Very true my friend. It’s very depressing to see the world around us
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So we writhe, and we worry, and we write … xxx
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Yes, we write to create awareness and to vent our emotions
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Exactly! And to, hopefully, give voice to those who cannot. Thank you for you!
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I still remember a very moving poem you wrote last October. I’ve been trying to create awareness too.
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Thank you. It’s been an intolerable time, and we must hope that things will shift to end hate, end division, and end all forms of violence. It has no place or justification in humane interactions. I am sure you have been doing all you can on your end, as well.
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Amen! At least we can say that we spoke up against violence.
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Amen to that. xx
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❤️🙏🏼❤️
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A fitting comment on the world in which we live. How and why has it come to this?
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Thank you, Keith. Indeed. I am struggling with the same questions. Power hunger? Warped perception of what strength or justice mean? Outdated views of using other human beings as chattel? Oy, all.
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