Taxi Driver

Travis, my emotions are mixed.
You are the reason I question my belief in God.
Why help another if one believes in no absolutes and wants nothing in return?
I try one jigsaw piece with another. I struggle.
Do I care for the serial killer’s paper cut finger?
The one who raped my ten-year-old daughter and through her in a bin.
Do I care for the minister’s ignorance?
The one that preaches death and hate between factions of skin and money and knowledge.
Do I care for the wife that I tied a knot to and wore this golden ring for fifteen years?
The one who is at a stranger’s house every Wednesday night.
Do I care for the manipulators of fear who are not born yet
The ones who will commit worst crimes than my mind can now understand.
I care or I guess, I want to care.
Does the psychopath have dignity? A soul?
Yes, I reaffirm, I care, because I was not the first to care?
And anyway, where is the line you want to draw?
Are not all crimes equal and all wrong.
If it breaks the heart of infinite love,
It breaks not only my heart but also all my arteries.
I bleed to death in a love that will never be returned,
But I will be resurrected.