I watch you get a running start and then unload upon an injured man sitting in the street. A broken man beaten, hurting, and in shock - your kick from behind, orchestrated, a running start, a foot planted squarely into the man’s jaw, knocking him flat, knocking him unconscious, yet you knew all along, you knew you were being filmed.
Your blatant disregard is for His image.
God’s image, written into this very man. But you carried out your attack as if your foot was engaging a football, a mere object of recreation, rather than the reality of a delicate head and face, already suffering injury, a head and face cradled by a mother, kissed by a wife, caressed by a child.
“You’re a coward, you are a coward!” screamed a girl to me sometime later after learning that I had followed the coaxing of my seventh grade peers and had lobbed my fist into the head of a boy, the twin, Alex, I think was his name, giving him a bloody lip. And when he turned around to look at me, his attacker, he looked
pained, not from the cowardly blow I had inflicted while his back was to me, but pained from the fact we knew each other and I had chosen to betray our friendship. For what? For the shallow glory the mob would give me. For joining in on “the fight.” Whatever the hell that meant I never figured it out.
Gary Edward Geraci
-
Author:
Gary Edward Geraci (
Offline) - Published: August 17th, 2020 18:27
- Category: Forgiveness
- Views: 45
Offline)
Comments2
How well you deal with the question of cowardice. Often there's more courage in holding back than acting with callousness and disregard for the hurt of others. Very sobering read.
Thank you Seek for responding.
Schoolboy/schoolgirl bullying can be beastly.
The first year of Secondary School (UK, ages 11-12) can be hellish, with evil 'initiations' by the bullies and cowards.
Not as extreme as this, but humiliating things, such as 'You been pushed into the playing field holly bush yet?'
Yes - I certainly experienced my share of it - that is - being on the receiving end of the bullies malice - heck - we were bullied for being Catholic kids - burning crosses were set in our yard (by none other than another Catholic kid - go figure - although his conscience got the better of him and he later admitted to the wrongdoing and made a full apology.)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.