This is Power Politics

When in the course of human events
At the point of compromise
The insider who knows how things are
The "powerful" party
Acts towards the other
As if expecting it to turn soft
From the force of their words
"This is real conviction" they say to themselves
Or more like how they earn their money

But from practice
They are indeed talking to themselves
As if in an empty room
Or wearing a wire
Not expecting a response
Except in their brains
A release of dramamine
From previously lost battles

But, miraculously
A faint signal comes through
The "weak" party, though unconvinced does anyway
Turn soft and responds

And, as if
Dropped like a rock crawling with insects
As something a little too real
They are totally ignored

And life continues on for one
After groping with the trashbag in his hand
In the dim light
Finding the wall
After he hit his head on it
Sure that he knew it wasn't there
The garbage thrown over it
Into the yard the other side
That he's never seen

But for the other,
The "soft rock"
The undiscovered yard over the wall
It's like getting off a bus in a wasteland
Dignified after an argument with the driver
Heavy suitcase limply at his side

Like walking into a pool fully clothed
And expecting laughter from
A party around holding their drinks
Instead of irritation and embarassment

This is "power politics"
And it is better
To stand in the wasteland not knowing where you are
Than on the bus
To leave the party soaking and wiser
Than standing around the pool drunk and dry.