Poetry Interlude: Reflection

All travelers experience things that transform, or should, transform them.

The lovely young woman sprawled awkwardly in the traffic median, futilely seeking the shade of a leafless tree, and the terrible moment you realize she is a leper.

The rows of tethered animals awaiting their ritual slaughter as if from the beginning of time, struggling half-heartedly against their fate while knowing full well its sadness and inevitability.

The wizened elder struggling to raise himself from the floor of a wattled and airless hut,  begging an aspirin for a cancer that will surely kill him.

How do I go forth with this knowledge, and how does my doing so tip the cruel balance of the world?

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