Part of the Problem?

You don't always know where you stand

Until you realize that you can't sit down anymore

I wish I could say that I could never just sit quiet

But the truth is

I was able to pretend for a while

I could slink away in the corner

And watch with intent

As money, and time, and emotions are spent

Trying to get those who abstain to express and repent

And those who resist to consider what's at stake, incensed

So that those that are lambasted for using their sense

And for not bending backwards to grant their consent

Consent

There's a concept, right?

Consent to be approached

Consent to be engaged

Consent to be selected

Except in our society, it may as well be

Consent to be encroached

Consent to be enraged

Consent to be disrespected

There used to be an art to be part of this world

An art that alluded me, of course

A dork of sorts with torts to force

Who'd sport ill-fitting shorts, of course

A soul who meant well, but fit ill in this jigsaw

A rolling stone who fell, but rolled onto less moss

Who fell off and got lost

But found itself with both ground and grains embossed

Of a different pattern than those you've come across

This Earth is different

But so desperately wants to relate to you

A hearth beat the same

As it draws out the hate from you

And as it yearns to be free of you

Does it draw a more tragic prison?

Is this a fire drawn to bed?

Or the next phoenix to be risen?

I should note here

I know I'm throwing a lot of extra metaphors and turns of phrase here

Things that probably don't make sense

That's one of the things about drawn out prose like this

It can take on a bunch of extra meanings and interpretations

And you can get away with not really saying anything

By saying a bunch of things in this vague way that makes it seem like

Maybe

Just maybe

I said the right thing

But you just didn't get it

And you want to just leave it as it is

Just in case you would just end up looking silly

If you called out what was clearly a bunch of crap that didn't go far enough

Well, let's try this one a little differently, shall we?

I want to be a good man

And for some reason, that has taken on a lot of different meanings in the recent past

It means, for some, that I'm supposed to speak up when something is wrong

With the hopes of making things right

But it also means, to others, that I should make due with what is

And not complain when the road is tough and the options are light

It means to hold up a historic set of ideals

Like chivalry, strength, and reliability

But it also means being an evolved version of those concepts

And giving way when needed for viability

And showing vulnerable sides, and acknowledging weaknesses and fears

And then snapping back into force, at a moments notice, to persevere

I'm not complaining, though I do remain unclear

Exactly when the mark got to wherever is 'here'

Why lie? I don't know how to do this

I'm at what is hopefully the halfway point of my life

And once again, like in basically every other chapter of my life

I'm waving the white flag

For someone to come and explain to me

As bluntly as desired

What the actual undignified #@$& is going on here

How did we get here?

And will we stay here after?

And I so desperately want to be part of the solutions

But what if I've been part of the problems?

I'm told the worst thing that you can do in a crisis

Is to not know, or not behave like you're actually in a crisis

Well, trust me

No risk there

But now what?

What do I even do, seeing as I only see the avenues from here as 

The ways that I failed yesterday

How do I grab my fellow man and say

"We need to do better"

If I'm only so sure how I personally can do better?

Am I one to teach?

Or do I have far more to learn, far more to earn

Before I can feel just to arise and to preach?

How do any of us know

That the ground we plant our stakes in

Is birthed of dirt and clay and not oil and sand?

How do we trust?

Our family, our friends, our neighbors

Our institutions, our leaders, our saviors

Who can just as easily become

Our cages, or frauds, or enslavers?

(Not talking shit about our personal communities, I'm just saying

Familiarity, loudness and/or confidence do not equal reliability or truthfulness)

How do I find truth?

How do I find reason?

Screw it, how do I find myself in this?

I've never had more intelligence and wisdom at my fingertips and I have found

A reason to doubt basically every single thing from the sea to the air, from wind to ground

And sure, faith counts for something

Until faith itself is misplaced

For I know one of the most dangerous things I've come across

Is a voice that says 'follow me blindly, or all is lost'

But if I ask a question at a time of doubt

At a time to dive in and figure it all out

Am I part of the problem?

God, do I want to be a better man

A man than can acknowledge that, quite possibly, he'll never get everything right

But won't be afraid to be wrong in his fight

Who will trip and stumble endlessly all through the dark

If just one soul that follows behind him reaches the light

Wisdom comes from getting it wrong and passing it along

So others now know better why we got it wrong

Regardless of how you get the best of suggestions

Your answers come from those that asked the first questions

Because as much as I want to know the truth

I'm more focused on finding the current solution

Even if I've been part of the problem

Even if I owe my own personal apology to those that came before us

The mothers, the sisters, the daughters

The neighbors, fellow passengers, nearby travelers

The ones who didn't feel safe

The ones who felt threatened

The ones who were not believed

The ones who fought back and paid the price for it

The ones who were ridiculed

The ones who were belittled and forgotten

The ones who were held responsible for decisions they didn't even make

The ones who made decisions they didn't even believe in but still had to commit to

I'm sorry if I didn't do enough

I'm sorry if I wasn't the ally I always could have been

I'm sorry if I should have spoken up sooner

I'm sorry... I'm just sorry

For the family I have, the ones I've lost sight of, and the ones yet to cross my path

I and the ones I stand for can do more

We will do more

We simply have to

You don't always know where you stand

Until you realize that you can't sit down anymore