[030823]
The dystopia is dangerous, but
I'm real when I am wrong.
I fear when we fight & it's a struggle for endings
but forward is a nest, not forever.
An idea isn't plastic-wrapped,
You're best when you are changing.
This pestilence of ego,
where one acts to gild the backs,
where one gives to be a sieve:
you can't collect compassion
and there's nothing stale in traction.
Let us grip, although there's grit.
Let's confide and never hide.
The stretch will setlle all our rattle,
we subdue when we submit,
but a battle -- what a way to quit!