About people having a basic humanity to themselves behind the diktats of the environment (a metaphor)

Wanted to put a bit about a senile old woman (always looking into the light to carry on the metaphor). And how she would look after cats or the like though she had no memory of why.

a diamond may cut his windscreen with light. I get the image but is it a diamond or light? I stumble here for some reason. I like it otherwise. Most what you write reaches me, makes me think. Keep it up.

-good-

Jim Jones and John Travolta painting the town red.

Many times I ask myself why I keep coming back to poemranker. Is it some sick co-dependent habit, an acting out of familial dysfunction? Then I find poetry, like an artifact toss carelessly among the rubbish, and I realize for a glimmer of a moment, no, it is my desire to feel the truth some stranger might share. A poem works for me not because I understand its details, but simply because the sound of it strikes upon familiar tones. This poem is pleasant, and poignant, the way a certain lullaby can calm, or the way a loved ones breathing registers a sense of belonging. Here is what the artist strives for, not sense, so much as beauty.

Cogent, with a knockout ending.

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You're a leader richard

It's very clear, yet vague enough to keep me meditating upon the metaphor. The senile woman version sounds like it would be a little more story-like, but I'd like to read it none the less.