What turns the heart dark?
Is it the weight of the battlefield?
Why does it shrink and become cruel?
Might it be too much wisdom?
Or a sudden surrender to the heartlessness in it all?
Or a road easier traveled?
Or a sanctioning
Of the pious delights in condescension?
Not liking to work so hard anymore?
Not wanting to think so deep anymore?
What turns a bouncing playpen pup
Into a snarling police dog?
Or St. Francis into Karl Marx?
With the onset of twilight,
Turning a cold shoulder to the hope
Of younger days?
Replacing it with a certain gluttony in comfort,
Was there some kind of hurt, some kind of disaster?
A judgement? An injustice?
A newly fashioned form of aluminum
To cover the walls?
Interior collisions echoing in the skull?
What makes a soul deny
Someone they once loved?
What causes a person to turn their back on a friend?
Do they know better now?
Can they now parse things indiscriminately?
Or is it just that people change,
For the worse, or better,
And that’s just the way life is?