LIES BEHIND OUR FEARS

This great society is void of variety,

Because amidst a tragedy, we see our own propriety.

We indulge in satisfaction and drink our own reactions.

We cash in our action for sociopolitical factions.

We couldn’t care less about lives while our words remain as knives.

We don’t hear our own child’s cries or the adolescent suicides.

Our lack of presence is our culture’s greatest weapon:

Pumping red lead in dead men, our dramatic armageddon.

Because we are the terror, our own cup bearer,

And when we crowd the streets, the news repeats,

As the mute fall cold at our feet.