You Underestimate Pain And Its Thresholds

i understand fully
why

you underestimate pain and its
thresholds

you look down upon persistence
equating it with
a compulsion

why you underrate pain as a character
trying hard to be felt
by an indifferent audience

more interested in ball games
politics
and business and today's weather

why you pay lip service to
a struggle
a cause

why you consider religion as a set of mores
a conduct
nothing but a Sunday show of
compliance

why you consider depression as a form of
dramatic training

why sorrow is a script of an opera
that has value only when it registers
huge sales in the theater

do we share these same events?

are all these present in our old houses
as old photographs

as memoirs, as a scrapbook
of family secrets

a bible of our nights
a clique

a novel that we set aside because we have been
reading all the pages

ever since childhood?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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