That's Just the Way Things Are

The price of eggs went up again,
my paycheck stayed the same.
My boss sent out an email
saying we're a family
and then denied the raises
because profits had been strained.

He bought a brand-new pickup Friday.

Well, that's just the way things are.

The newsman screamed at seven.
The other screamed at eight.
One told me I should panic,
the other told me who to hate.
By nine, I'd picked a side,
though I'm still not certain why,
and two old friends stopped speaking
over something someone shared online.

Well, that's just the way things are.

We elected men with perfect teeth
to argue in a room.
They promised they would fix it all
if we'd just vote for them by June.
They pointed left.
They pointed right.
They blamed the other side.

Then shook hands behind closed doors
and asked us all to fight.

Well, that's just the way things are.

We bought the phones.
We joined the apps.
We handed them our lives.
Then acted shocked when advertisements
knew exactly what we'd buy.

We photographed our dinners,
our children and our grief,
then begged a room of strangers
to tell us what to think.

Well... that's just the way things are.

A mother cried in aisle six
because her card declined.
A dozen people walked around her.
Everyone was short on time.

One stopped.

He bought the milk.

No camera.
No post.
No little heart-shaped button
to prove that he was kind.

Funny.

That's not the way things are.

Or at least, that's what we've been told.

Maybe we've repeated it so often
we've mistaken our excuses
for some sacred rule of old.

The world is loud.
The bills are high.
The politicians still debate.
The internet is angry
and we're all running late.

Still, someone holds the door.

Someone pulls a stranger from the snow.

Someone brings a grieving family supper
and never tells a soul.

Perhaps that's just the way things are.

Good people doing quiet things

while louder people take the credit.

Funny.

You'd never know it from the news.