The Things We Don'T See Poem by Mustafa Marconi

It’s the things we don’t see
The things we take for granted
A calm and soothing breeze
Or just a tender moment of peace and tranquility
A subtle glance of time
Neither quickens nor hastens
Yet it is the many variables we trivialize
And reduce to a mere grain of sand
In these unpredictable and unscripted highways of life
That will slowly yet surely rise up
Like a thief in the night
To take a healthy and lethal bite
Out of our collective asses

We can see the Rocawear
The Throwbacks and the Timberlands
But it’s the things we don’t see
The dozen of women slept with
Some clean, some dirty
The notches he’s carved
Into his imaginary belts of conquest
Notches that seem to resemble the letters
H. I. V.

You’ve seen the Jordans,
The Sean Jean sweat suits
And the Philly number 3
But it’s the things you don’t see
The little boys making 30 cents a hour
To produce these products
Not able to help their families
Escape the bitter chains of poverty
Not able to purchase the very items they painstakingly assemble
You seen a deal
But every deal has its price
Nothing in life is free
It cost to be born
It cost to die
And everything cost in between
You see the fine houses, the gourmet food
The Italian furniture, and the imported accessories
But it’s the things you don’t see
The stories behind the many different pictures
The instruments behind the music
The impetus behind the words

The passenger side door opens
You oblige and enter
Right off the assembly line
The fresh smell of leather and air freshener
Accompanied by 100 amps
Of pulsating rhythm and blues
It’s all good
Brother got it going on
Inside his jacket a nine-millimeter glock
And the things you don’t see
The many murdered in his undying quest for power
Shot in cold blood for debts of twenty
Forty, fifty dollars of crack
The crack babies he helped to nurture
In so many addicted mother’s wombs
The many homes burglarized
The many victims assaulted and robbed
To purchase the crack
That “brother got it going on”
Sold to buy his Glock and Lexus
The things you don’t see
The many lives destroyed
The words you don’t hear
The threats, the screams, the lies
The stories behind each and every picture
The roots underneath the trees
Open your eyes oh ye of little faith
It is time that we all woke up