The surface of the pond
Was a mirror reflecting
The cloudless sky.

I cared not for the reflection,
Instead I cared about what
Laid below the surface.

I cared about what laid
Below the surface of the man
Who smiled with shiny teeth
And skillful words.

I cared about what laid
Below the surface of the woman
Who laughed with me
With a booming laugh
And puffy eyes.

I cared about what laid
Below the surface of the rich man
With the big house and
The supposed empty bed.

I cared about what laid
Below the surface of the
Sweaty pastor pounding the Bible
Like a gavel.

I cared about what laid
Below the surface of the
Little girl who folded into herself
When a man came close to her.

I care because
It is what is below the surface
That comes up unexpectantly
And rocks the boat.

That has the potential
To upend said boat,
That may even destroy that boat,
Changing everything forever.

So as I pass
My fellow man
On the street,
I wonder what lies
Below the surface.

What lies below
Your surface?


Submitted to Poetry Pantry