I remember the words of the old man who taught me the trade...
He assured me that I would get used to the fear.. To the sounds and the
last struggling moments of these poor creatures...
Certainly I have learned to leave much of
the sounds and smells behind me when I leave work,
But after all these years, the nightmares still haunt the sanctity of my dreams.
I see the innocent eyes of the poor creatures,
as they walk purposely towards their doom,
I hear the pathetic scrambling as they try to escape,
all of them panic at one stage or another,
when they finally realize that it's all too late,
that everything has gone horribly wrong..
and whilst I wish I could somehow change everything,
I am a mere pawn within a system that has been herding these innocents
to their doom for many thousands of years.
I have no voice, yet sometimes I wish I could scream at them,
to scare them away and to show them how so
many more of their ancestors were sacrificed here,
to make them flee and somehow eke out a life of liberty and safety on their own.
But they are all just so trusting, they think that as they walk into the building,
They will be treated as they were in the past..
That all of the rules of fairness and decency are still in place
But one by one, they are all hoodwinked,
and the final deception leaves their eyes wide open, not with terror
but the sheer evil betrayal that occurred the moment that they arrived here,
and lost everything... Yes, I still have those nightmares
I still wish I could make somebody understand, to warn them of this terrible fate
But my only consolation is that it has given me steady work for many years,
every tear of pain helps to pay for each brick in my house, and whilst I still wake often
knowing I am enshrouded even here, at home by such misery.
I know that in some small way I am making a little difference to these poor creatures...
Sometimes it sucks to be a marriage counselor.
(oh, and I'm actually not a counselor, but I got the idea of writing this a few weeks ago, after meeting one!!)
He assured me that I would get used to the fear.. To the sounds and the
last struggling moments of these poor creatures...
Certainly I have learned to leave much of
the sounds and smells behind me when I leave work,
But after all these years, the nightmares still haunt the sanctity of my dreams.
I see the innocent eyes of the poor creatures,
as they walk purposely towards their doom,
I hear the pathetic scrambling as they try to escape,
all of them panic at one stage or another,
when they finally realize that it's all too late,
that everything has gone horribly wrong..
and whilst I wish I could somehow change everything,
I am a mere pawn within a system that has been herding these innocents
to their doom for many thousands of years.
I have no voice, yet sometimes I wish I could scream at them,
to scare them away and to show them how so
many more of their ancestors were sacrificed here,
to make them flee and somehow eke out a life of liberty and safety on their own.
But they are all just so trusting, they think that as they walk into the building,
They will be treated as they were in the past..
That all of the rules of fairness and decency are still in place
But one by one, they are all hoodwinked,
and the final deception leaves their eyes wide open, not with terror
but the sheer evil betrayal that occurred the moment that they arrived here,
and lost everything... Yes, I still have those nightmares
I still wish I could make somebody understand, to warn them of this terrible fate
But my only consolation is that it has given me steady work for many years,
every tear of pain helps to pay for each brick in my house, and whilst I still wake often
knowing I am enshrouded even here, at home by such misery.
I know that in some small way I am making a little difference to these poor creatures...
Sometimes it sucks to be a marriage counselor.
(oh, and I'm actually not a counselor, but I got the idea of writing this a few weeks ago, after meeting one!!)
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