He Sits There

He sits there alone, everyone looking at him.
“How can he stay so calm in all this turmoil?”
Bullets fly, explosions, people die all around,
Nothing phases this example of stoicism.
The dying scream for his help, begging,
They bleed for his assistance and cry,
He sits there, he says and hears nothing.
Men come up and shove guns into his head,
Screaming at him, threats, gunshots, yells,
He sits there, oblivious to all that happens.
They’ve had enough, he must answer for this,
This blatant disrespect that he has shown,
With a triumphant thrust, they throw a blow,
His first reaction is his scream, then his death.
Alas, what joy it must be to be deaf.

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