Helpless

I'm not a senator. I'm not a representative. I'm not a lawyer. I'm not well connected.

I know musicians. I know teachers. I know teenagers. I know I feel incredibly helpless.

I feel like a dog whose owner rubbed the smell of my favorite treats over both their hands then clenched their hands tightly closed, as if there were something there, and then waves them in front of me egging me to get their hands open and when I do I find there is nothing there.

I stand looking at open hands, with no treat, still smelling something I desire with no concept of how to find and obtain it. It doesn't matter where I look, it only becomes more and more frustrating as the smell is strong. I pace, I whine, I stress, I shed, I whimper, I paw, I leave, I return....to no avail - nothing is changed.

How do the helpless help the helpless?

They will never know me. They will never know my desire. They will never know my longing. They will never see my tears on their behalf. They will never know my help because I don't know how. They will never bless me.

They will likely curse me.

Curse me; in my home. Safe. Warm. Dry. Fed. Clean. White. Middle-class. Educated. Children. Car. Health. Clothed. With excess.

Perfectly poised to be......helpless.