Two Brothers

A long time ago, two brothers were born.

Practically attached at the hip,

Their names; Comfort and Discomfort.

They were identical twins.

Brothers as old as time, that,

You’ll find, today, still exist.

Yet it is hard to know,

Which one was which.

But I’ll help to tell them apart;

These two brothers, that continue to persist,

Featured in and around,

Our everyday lives.

The brothers can be easy to see,

Other times, hidden as spies.

Like secret agents,

Without ever getting caught.

Which is why, I am going to tell you

Who they are;

By telling you, who they are not.

Comfort is not,

Wondering if your kid is safe

Not knowing when,

The next meal will come to your plate.

Comfort is not,

Looking for a place to sleep

Preferring nightmares in bed

To dreams on the street.

Comfort is not,

Fearful thoughts, your lungs will cease.

When cancer cells make it difficult to breathe,

Comfort is not,

Wondering if the lights will shut off

Struggling to pay bills because you lost your job.

Comfort is not,

Having poor mental health

But being afraid of the stigma, of asking for help.

Comfort is not,

Being stopped from loving who you love

By ignorant laws that cause others to judge .

All these things, Brother Comfort is not.

Now, I will tell you about his twin, Discomfort,

Before he comes

To put my stomach in knots.

At the worst possible times, he comes around.

Sometimes you find him,

Even if you don’t want him to be found.

Discomfort is not,

Having more than enough to eat

Food for you, your spouse, and the family you feed.

Discomfort is not,

Having a warm place to sleep

Feeling wonderful because your health is pristine.

Discomfort is not,

A family with more than enough money saved

Not crushed into debt by one rainy day.

Discomfort is not,

Being compensated, what you deserve get paid,

Understanding your value,

And receiving, AT LEAST, a livable wage.

Discomfort is not,

Not having to sacrifice your mind

To the game, We are expected to play.

Discomfort is not,

Feeling certain, individual rights will be protected,

By a system unjust, when we least expect it.

So, next time you see one of the brothers,

Standing in the back of a room.

Don’t be afraid to say something,

Because others might see him too.