Reality is hard
Do you know why you believe that?
Have you turned over some rocks
or is self-esteem more important
than truth?
Perhaps you write your poems with a pencil
Do you know what graphite is or where to find it?
Could you cut the wood for the barrel
or make the paper?
What’s the ferule or eraser made of?
Even something as simple as a pencil
took millions of lives millennias
just for you
Perhaps you write your poems on a keyboard
As you detail your suffering in ways too convoluted
Do you take a moment to imagine
That you are the African child crawling through that cobalt mine
or the Uyghur slave in the Chinese chip factory toiling
just for you?
You can still drown in the warm, shallow water
Even if the tsunami never comes
Maybe your beliefs are just
A successful marketing campaign created
just for you