Invisible People

Written by Mark Pedersen

Written by Mark Pedersen

February 9, 2021

I finished this poem back in March 12th of ’98. That was shortly into the second year of my formal disability.

I had been frantically working… upwards of eighty hours a week… until I got sick. Then it all went away.
I felt in so many ways that I had failed. I had failed as a man. And I had failed as a father. I had committed my life to ministry. To serving those less fortunate. But I had failed them, too. I was broken…in body and mind.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that I had not truly understood the depth of tragedy that goes on around us continually. What’s more, I was afraid to know.
Empathy moves us to take pity on those less fortunate, but to actually feel what those afflicted feel… well, that’s a different thing.

* * * * * * * *

Invisible People

Specters pass without a sound; A vaguely nebulous mass.
From the corner of my eye, I sense Their presence. Without turning, I let them pass.

If I don’t acknowledge them, if my efforts graciously conserved,
My world would suffer not; This fragile realm preserved.

Translucent to the popular ones; So easy to ignore.
To intervene would cause discomfort. I quietly close the door.

Their needs go on so why should I care. Like a tick, they’d suck me dry.
My response ends with the evening news. I shake my head, and maybe, sigh.

The poor – always with us – so the Bible states. God helps those who help themselves.
They’re on their own outside the gates.

The world is made for the beautiful ones; The rich, the smart, the sly.
There’s no room for the invisible ones. Perhaps they just should die.

We succeed by our own will; We persevere by our own might.
The weak, the sick, the aged ones, Are best kept out of sight.

What need have I of them. Don’t preach their burden share!
What profit I, by helping them; Why should I dare to care?

What would others think of me; Reaching out to those soiled by pain?
Surely they’d think a fool of me; What could I possibly stand to gain?

When those we know should fall away; When ill fortune raises it’s ugly head,
We scatter like bugs disturbed by light; Good conscious replaced by dread.

My life’s too full for selfless affection. I must look out for number one.
I shut out compassion and pity and care; I turn my back and begin to run.

Suddenly, all around me, they materialize Before my dread.
Their presence overtakes me. I hear their murmurs, though nothing’s said.

I feel the pain caused by neglect; The despair of hopeless existence.
Their thoughts – now my own; death’s savor – squelched only by life’s persistence.

As if awakened to a nightmare, But the nightmare persists, and yet,
Empathy rises and something more… Could it possibly be regret?

I see loneliness and degradation, but, I see humanity still.
A scarred and broken vessel… That only love can fill.

Like mirrors all around me… Their eyes reflect the truth I shun.
I see myself before me,

I, too, could be an invisible one.

Related Posts

Changing How Our World Sees Cannabis

It became obvious to us all early on that REAL Cannabis reform would only come through sound education. It was not enough to just preach to the choir. The other 75% of the country needed to learn the truth. This meant stepping beyond ourselves.

Hearts of Humanity

With all the intellect that has walked this rock, none has learned that law does not shape the hearts of humanity.Cages and every form of punishment cannot drive out the evil that festers in the minds of the troubled. In our fear and our disdain, we trade liberty...

Cannabis and Law Enforcement

I've asked it before. What do you feel when you see the lights of a police cruiser in your rearview mirror? Does your pulse quicken? Does your chest tighten? Do you suddenly hit the brakes? Well, it would be one thing if you were speeding or doing something...

Making My Way Back

...time is also what Cannabis has given me. It's gotten me to here. So far, over twenty years...that in itself is awesome.

In Cannabis, Don’t accept Anything at Face Value

Prohibitionist law enforcement used ads like this to make home production of Cannabis oil, in all of its many forms, illegal in Colorado, but it had very little to do with safety, and everything to do with crippling caregiving across the state.

a hopeful time

A lot has happened since that magazine cover. History, apparently, has not played out exactly as we planned. It appears that the vernacular raced ahead of the law. Words like “legal”, have been stretched - practically to the point of breaking - as activists, “entrepreneurs” and profiteers raced to cash …

Where I’ve been…

As Thanksgiving approached, other concerns began striving for importance. My good friend and mentor, Federal Legal Patient, George McMahon was in hospice. The thought of his passing without me seeing him one last time seemed more than I could bear. So many dear friends have passed. All too many, like …

Living the Dream

Sitting here on the porch of my apartment; if it’s clear and I look hard, I can see the mountains. They remind me where I am. I draw a joint from my cigarette case. Light it. I draw in that first comforting puff. As I exhale, I watch the smoke …