On May 25, 2020, a police officer murdered George Floyd, a suspect in his custody. As a reminder to Americans, we are all innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.
On May 26, peaceful protests began.
On May 27, peaceful protests continued. Eventually, rioters and outside agitators burned a Minneapolis neighborhood.
On May 28, I wrote this piece. Then I put it aside, unwilling to work further on such a heavy topic.
On November 20, 2024, I rediscovered it. I’m now sharing as part of my month of gratitude and my greater commitment to writing meaningful things.
Sometimes, there are no words.
You want there to be, but they fail.
You hope that you can say that genuine thing to alleviate someone’s pain.
Put an end to suffering.
Quell the madness.
Turns minds away from bigotry.
But there are no words
Tonight as Minneapolis burns.
The writer prides himself on turns of phrase
On vocabulary
On finding the perfect way to state a thing
But the practice, the tools, the tricks
They fail because there are no words.
A word typed
A thought, aloud.
These things are too small for a situation too large.
They are noise.
They are nothing.
Worthless thoughts shouted into the face of the heedless storm.
One day again
The words will come. But today, there are no words
Many of us are grateful that events like this are not part of our world, though we are too ashamed to say it aloud. We need to find our voices. The world becomes a better place when the meaningful things drown out the oppressors’ noise. Please take this encouragement to contribute your own meaningful things.
Thank you for reading. Hug your loved ones this holiday weekend.
–Mike
(C) Michael Wallevand, November 2024
The Lost Royals 