Waitress Serves A Hypocrite, Poetry by Christian S. Eskelund

Genre: Relationships, Abuse

–Waitress Serves A Hypocrite — by Christian S. Eskelund

Your pouty lips smack and smile so
Smugly
As you chew, open mouthed,
Your gum – communicating your cool.
Oh, you’re so easy to read…
Disconnected, unseeing:
Blind and blissfully so,
You walk your path of comfort,
Never asking or engaging, except in
The shallows –
That place of no real wonder,
Where it’s all so easy to see,
That all is measured by what is had
Or not had.
Anyone can tell that
You’ve got it so together,
The 4.0 G.P.A.,
The tidy little life with
Mom and Dad in the suburbs,
Where you grew so strong,
Unsullied and wise,
Your college education long ago
Bought and paid for –
Like your cool.
You’ll graduate next year
After you’ve learned
“Critical thinking.”
You’ll probably take a trip
To Europe soon,
Stay in “nice” middle-class hotels.
Become enlightened,
And romanced,
Look for and maybe find
The man
Who’ll always be strong,
Someone your parents
can be proud of,
Who’ll take care of
Everything
For you,
Afford you
And somehow
Always
Find the time to
Understand
The emptiness that is you.

And I, with my cynicism and sarcasm
Have judged you…
I have judged you as shallow, silly –
A fraud.

Because I do not know you,
I will never know:
Of the “games” your neighbor
Made you play
All those years ago.
How the tears finally dried up,
As you tried to forget
How your “lovers” never saw you – never knew your heart.
How they treated you just as the neighbor did, your uncle too,
And… your Dad.

How could I know:
That you don’t even know how to see yourself,
Your reasons for grasping at the glossies’ propaganda,
Why you let them decide
For you,
Why you came to see life as
Little more than a
Play act?

Yet I already have you pinned
To my specious
Opinion.

And could I know that my attitude
Is why,
Resoundingly why
No one
Will ever see the real you?
Because whoever that is,
or was is lost,
Gone forever.

And could I know how to stop and
See
That it is only because you were torn
So many times
That you are now
So dead inside
That someone else now
wears your skin
And goes to work each day and smiles?

Hard Hat Poet
(Christian S. Eskelund)
29 April 2012
Jacksonville, Florida

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This entry was posted in 2016 poetry, new poetry, poem, poet, poetry, relationship, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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