Abused people abuse people
It once was a safe place: Now it isn’t anymore.
The bus ride home from New York.
The 2 young bully punks unseated me.
Democracy and decency were left on the filthy curb
at departure time.
They jeered at me across the crowded bus
as I picked up my discarded items that they cast aside
and sought another seat in powerless disgrace,
shivering in dread of what the raucous jackals
might do to me next,
while witnesses to the abuse shrank in silence.
The zip slicing of soft flesh by sharpened steel
leaves a searing, burning wound that takes
weeks of scabbing to heal,
while the scar remains as a painful reminder of how robbing of self
the deep cut is.
Hurt people hurt people.
Guns are drawn and fired at the innocent
by the warped among us who won’t see how cruel they are…
and removed from their own best interest
and ours they remain.
To the scammers, schemers, cheats and bullies ….
Why?
Copyright 2015 Ian Avery Hochberg