Powerbrokers with muscles on steroids
bulldoze their way across the field
leaving wreckage along the path.
Power tools with deafening boom
muffle the cries,
bury the stench.
Stunning display of moral corruption
hides the black and white beneath illusions of gray.
A pile of confusion,
a swirl of questions,
the rubble of lies has a way
of exposing the truth.
I’m not prepared to make judgments, and it certainly isn’t my place to do so, but yes, if you suspect that this was inspired by the Paterno-Sandusky saga, you are correct. I don’t claim to know the truth about any of the allegations, but I am a parent and I have a child who is a boy and my reflection on the general issue of the powerful vs. the powerless took me here.
Besides, I refuse to give up the notion, illusory though it may be at times, that the truth will set itself apart from a rubble of lies. Certain beliefs are non-negotiable if I am to continue to trust in the manner that I do. And so far, trust has served me well.
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