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I can see
the cliff’s drop
as our vessels
fight each other.

What’s that you say?

The more things change,
The more they stay the same?

Our street crimes now includes
blasts with nails and junk as shrapnel
all for the infidels you say.

But the bombs kill children
and innocents….

Trash blows through the streets,
Detroit tumble weeds blowing through the air.

Might they fly,
might they fly to the seas?
Cultivating swirling currents of plastics and
chemicals for all fish to eat?
Like fibre, maybe it’s necessary for our diets….

What’s that you say, that our civilizations are at pinnacles
Of great heights.

But we can’t feed the vulnerable,
They get no respect and they                       too die in the streets.
Maybe the blood and bodies
can flow to the seas too….

I stopped shooting to talk
peace and logic.
You start to listen, then you are killed too,
Because no one wants leave the
Status Qua.

There is a chance,
but only on this side of cliffs.