eyes of a different kind peer out
at our environmental horizon,
letting us know the way is clear,
our path resolute and finite,
towards a wintery solution, we
march like slaves on batan,
no one left behind - no one can
be taken with us since our journey
is mentally insecure...
faces of a different kind laugh out
at our choices and decisions,
believing them to be premature
and without proper emphasis,
like putting the natives on sandy
reservations and hoping they
have the skills to grow corn...
words of a different kind tossed
out with the bath water in the hopes
of teaching lessons soon to be
forgotten or ignored as we march
to the tunes of our own perceptions,
grasping as the boundaries that
separate and divide us from birth
until the grave that we must dig for
ourselves and fill with hopefulness.
October 18, 2024
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