Dear Diary
Dear diary,
I met a vegan today.
They waved at me. I don’t know who does that.
They smiled. They’d drunk the Kool-Aid.
They said their name. They weren’t from around here.
They questioned. That’s not why I’d stopped.
They told me things. But what did they know.
They listened. That’s not what people do.
They challenged me. The nerve of a stranger.
They waited. They WOULD hear me out.
They gave answers. Like they knew anything.
They laughed. I’d thought they were serious.
They shook my hand. I got caught off guard.
They thanked. But I’d give them nothing.
I lingered. Who did they think they were.
I paused. My kids were watching.
I beckoned. But my wife was talking.
I swore. This wasn’t our problem.
I made nice. I was stuck there a while.
I read. At least they had pictures.
I overheard. This speaker was different.
I looked. This one was like me.
I went up to him. Still that weird clothing.
I barked. He must’ve been fooled.
I interrupted. My problems were his.
I heard. His language was mine.
We compared ourselves. He’d thought as I did.
We sparred. He was a good fighter.
We boasted our deeds. I, too, was surprised.
We joked. A single can’t hurt.
We learned from each other. That wasn’t so bad.
We told. Our stories were plenty.
We admitted our faults. Our families learned faster.
We smirked. And thanked goodness for them.
We exchanged cards. Both were professional.
We shook. ’Cause that’s what men do.
We wrote down our names. We might have more questions.
We parted. But still I was thinking.
They wanted no money. My wallet was mine.
They loved. It mattered not who.
They welcomed the angry. For that’s what I’d been.
They stayed. They had jobs to do.
They stood up for strangers. They’d never be thanked.
They wept. They couldn’t save all.
They’d be here tomorrow. Plus more folks like me.
They reveled. The knots made the job.
They really believed it. They thought they would win.
They knew. There wasn’t a fear.
They even got me. I’d give it a listen.
They said it’s the best speech I’ll hear.