Make Me Care Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

We celebrate the many,
After they have sacrificed...
The volunteering of their lives.
Doing this for decades and centuries,
Long to have been buried and died.
Gone.
Not to realize their suffering.
Or can imagine to wonder why.

We anticipate holidays yet to come.
With a highlighting calendars,
To prioritize this done.
Preparing a menu,
Of delicious food to eat.
Then to entertain the feasting,
A taking for granted our selfishness.
Movies recently released.
Rented or purchased to watch on TV.

Yet...
With ease we receive,
Entitlements to get not one to earn.
Yearning to spend,
The passing of judgements.
Upon others unknown but condone to resent.
Finding blame to claim and fault.
Those who have been loyal and patriotic.
To have remained that way unchanged.
Although...
Picked to accuse,
For causing a variety...
Of mental and physical instabilities.
They themselves have inflicted to cause.

However...
Nothing in history is credited to mention,
Their participation...
In creating opportunities.
For the many who sat back on behinds.
Whining.
About the color of someone's skin.
And appearances less impressive,
To address.
While to have brought to a table,
Much more to serve the ones...
Who had brought nothing.
But a presentation of pretense.
And expectations to fulfill,
A continuing tolerance of ignorance.

"Uh...
You!
No...
The other one with the nappy hair.
Yes!
You.
Boy...
I have dropped crumbs from my crumpets,
All over my expensive Oriental rug."

-Make me care! -

"Don't be insolent or rude."

-Those crumbs are yours.
And not mine to stay where they are.-

"What appalling statement,
Is that to make in front of guests? "

-That's for you and your guests to decide.
I bought and prepared the feast you eat.
And your pretensions to keep.
I'll be in the kitchen.
Awaiting my pay in cash.
And not another bounced check!
This is your masquerade to charade.
Pay up.-