Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

We should blame the people taking down the statues, make them pay to put things right--so said a "friend." But perhaps we should blame those who left the statues standing for so long; blame ourselves, who let our silence tell others what they ought to feel when they knew they were hurting. (Ah yes, and who told me "You like that; it's good" when I was too helpless, too young, too insecure to say no? Should I put a statue  up of  him?) We should let the statues tell our history, warts and all, because those who don't remember are condemned to repeat it--so says the friend. But I'd rather museums and text books tell all, while public monuments celebrate the good instead of glorifying evil. We should silence those whose oral histories have accentuated the bad. Alas, my friend can't hear how sad... Perhaps we should open the ears of those who have aurally ignored the bad. And perhaps we shouldn't blame, but should listen and CHANGE.

Never been kissed, Not so’s she’d want to remember, Fleeing the dance… Never kissed her Missed his chance, so it seemed… Then kissed’n redeemed her. Written with thanks for second chances

It’s not the dark that scares me. See, I’m walking without light. The night Is bright enough for me. It’s not the shadows. Watch them flee. They have no words to answer me. They haven’t heard my cry. It’s not the walls. They try to close Me in, surround on every side, But I just pass them by. It’s not the memories either. They Were just another night or day, Another time of life. Not this, nor that, but sudden snatch Of thought or light or image catches Fire, detaches me. He touched me Who should not desire Such sin. Written for ReadWritePoem , April 3rd prompt - something that scares you.