This Guy

He is like a stagnant pool,
Quite smooth on the surface
Breezes, falling leaves and twigs,
and animals will cause the occasional fleeting ripple
A moment later, it's like nothing ever happened

Yet he prides himself on his generosity
to those orbiting him,
Those with whose concerns he is unconcerned,
Props to make a point,
Tools to take and use,
Obstacles to break and conquer,

And their ingratitude puzzles him briefly,
like a blip on the radar screen,
Seen and then not seen,
Gone and then forgotten

There is a world outside him, though,
-that there's no mistaking-
full of things there for the taking,
At the time of his choosing,
At his every conveniance,
At his merest whim,
On the spur of the moment,
Spurring on the beast of burden,

What's this he tries to keep hidden?
What's this we see?
Are we too shy to say
what we see staring us in the face
in this place today?

Will he ever get his comeuppance,
in some future circumstance?
Does it matter?
See here and now,
hear and tell and know what he's become!

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