The Weight of Disdain
I sometimes ponder on the weight of disdain,
wondering how it feels like to be hated by many.
Especially when once you found yourself bathed in
admiration,
only to be caught in a bitter haze, following an
error, a mistake.
Like Helen of Troy, wrongfully accused of igniting the
Trojan War,
once adored, then loathed, a fall from grace .
I’m not talking about the bloodthirsty men of the
past,
History’s dark stain.
Those earned their hatred,
for they inflicted unbearable pain upon millions
And I hope that as their bones rust under the earth,
their memory gets soiled and tarnished; a second
death.
I am talking about people like me and you
People with vices and sins,
Navigating life’s intricate laws
Making a mistake,
no malice intended, no harm meant;
yet the tides turn, and love transforms to ache.
The writer who solicited himself at night, dressed as
a Siren;
The poet who frequented the notorious side of the park
seeking the company of strangers;
The artist who overdosed on drugs, having chocked on
his own vomit a hundred times;
The activist who got caught gambling;
People like me and you,
who were first idolized and then ridiculed.
Angela
Patera