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par Tanya Yong

Veuillez fournir les renseignements suivants pour voter pour ce poème:

But I only “Liked” the post
I scroll back, a few more videos in,
the image of a smiling child with their skin hanging on broken bones,
a homeless marine,
a shaking kitten.
I don’t pity; I feel ashamed.
Ashamed that there isn’t enough kindness to give,
that beneath each video I support
the algorithm will send another one my way.
And another
Another
Another
Until I surrender to the tragedy of empathy.
“They told us it wouldn’t be easy”
And I don’t know how to make it less hard

I put on a podcast about activism from 2 influencers
To “learn my part in the unfair world”
And stare out the window in the backseat of my mom’s car
I was late to school that morning
And the person at the main office asked me
“Why are you late this morning?”
And I said traffic.
Traffic.
Red lines on Google Maps, an annoyed sigh, +10 minutes to my drive
But what I really meant was:
“This morning the police mopped blood off the asphalt,
sirens disappeared off the highway into the far north of the city.
A wheel cover split in half lying on the bright lawn in the media strip.
More police on walkies.
A grave being dug.
Arrangements made for the family dog to be adopted.
The echoes of a scream that will never fade
A permanent scar
For a mother who lost her kid
And a kid who lost her mother”

So, yeah, the traffic was really bad this morning.
And I couldn’t tell the person at the front desk all that.
I went to class, scrolling on my phone
And I saw “Car accident on the 401, 3 killed, 5 injured”
And I “Liked” the post.
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