They say
"live with empathy".
Yet this anger,
it boils
like thick,
heated tar,
bubbling, black
beads of rage,
seething.

Empathy is me
holding the lid down,
keeping the broth from
boiling over, as it
gurgles beneath the surface,
trying to break through.

To respond
with anger
would be me,
blindfolded
to the world,
tossing out
scalding water,
until everyone
is burned,
including
myself.
It would be
adding too much
pepper as we all
scorch our mouths,

while empathy,
cool, milky, sweet
words of compassion,
is the creamy reminder
that every suffering finds
relief. While the soup burns
us, we can always add a
little extra sour cream.