Dynamite

Dynamite

by Skylan Abraham

They opened their mouths
spewing dynamite,
with which neither side of the discussion could be heard;
making perhaps,
an argument, not the latter.
Two stubborn men,
answers absolute,
Right vs. Ignorant.
Had a solution evolved?
I do not know.
I left before I knew.

I heard talk
of an ending friendship,
and pity for them befell me,
should I have stepped in?
Given them, perhaps,
an outsider's perspective?
Not for the sake of proving each wrong,
but rather providing insights on both viewpoints,
and maybe end up saving a friendship?

Passive in nature,
I am no hero,
however small a hero as such an act would make,

Disclaimer, I give no perfect judgments,
and try not to,
for in my mind,
it rings,
"do not judge unless thee be judged,"

Yet, from listening in,
I saw the issues of both,
and felt urged
to give an unbiased opinion.

My gut echoed to me,
"it's okay, you should do this..."
Knowing well not to overstep
my brain vs my heart,
I did not, and so
like dynamite,
wetted at the wick,
I left,
and never said anything.




*Note: Just for context, I should mention at the time I was a waitress. The inspiration for this poem came from a regular customer at the restaurant I work at. I'm not one to butt into others' business, but I thought about doing so for them because he was said "regular."*