Right and wrong

Right and wrong, criminal and justice

I have never understood where these ideals of right and wrong begin. When they are a result of societal norms and when they are a result of simple though and humanity.

Is it okay to steal when starved? Is it okay give up on life? Is it okay to love when society says you should not?  And most of all is it okay to be an aid in killing when you are powerful enough or when you get something wanted in return?

You may not understand yet, but I am trying to shape words and thought into form, into an understandable jumble, filled with thoughts and ideals both heard and imagined. Those I agreed with and disagreed with, within my short time.

What I mean to say is that I used to watch to listen to hear the news of popular channels such as CNN, FOX. ‘Reputable news sources’ I thought. Can you imagine the naivety that would form such a thought? Can you hear or feel the bitter grief of an ignorant mind now fully cognizant?

When black and white mix to form a murky muddy grey it sticks to all who touch it and stains pure ignorance to form bitter truth. The moment I truly opened my eyes I understood I knew nothing of right and wrong.

I don’t share this thought lightly. After all, it’s easy to see the black and white of a criminal case. Don’t you watch Law and Order? It may be difficult to grasp in the beginning but don’t worry you’ll know who is right and wrong by the end. You’ll see the line of white and black separated. You won’t have any mud on your hands if you only hear what you should and see only what you should.

Now I have only ever gazed through a sparkling window frame past the white checkered squares of paneled glass into the heat haze of 101 degrees Fahrenheit. While I sit in a metal desk, glinting under the hum of florescent lights, contemplating listening to the murmurs of a competent teacher or putting on a thin sweater to protect myself from the slight chill of a cool classroom.

What would I know of true discomfort, suffering? Of having to fight for life among brothers and sisters, or of feeling true fear as I watch and listen for the next death.

The blessing of those who truly suffer is that they cannot always hear the hatred from those who sit in comfort and will more chaos on their suffering. They cannot see a leader raise their voice and say without hesitation that the mothers should die first so that they are unable to breed more of their ilk. But the crying mother will feel the hatred as she flees for her life and her child’s, the brothers and sisters when they desperately hold onto the souls of the departed.

Though if and when they do hear the hatred, I hope they feel and see they love of millions. The pleas for protection, for those whose strength goes towards protecting at the risk of their own lives asking only for the strength to protect day after day.

So maybe now you understand my confusion. Is it not criminal to abandon your own humanity and ask for murder? Is it not criminal to cause the death of another?

But they survive. Oh how they survive. Through the mud and the blood they still gasp for breath, they still feel, they still raise their faces to the sun in hope that others may hear them and pass on their plight to those whom they cannot reach. To those who close their hearts and ears to the truth so that they may live in comfort and listen only to what they should and see only what they should.

Perhaps now you see my confusion as you walk past the dark ally and do not see the suffering old war hero past the shutters on your eyes. Is it wrong to close your eyes or a way of protecting a still unburdened soul?


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