The fence.

How broken are our ties,

When words and hate surround,

When those charged with truth spin lies,

And spill pollution in minds abound?

 

The alternative is useless or risk,

Drift out at sea with a meek little sign,

or stand and throw stones or bricks,

what is worth to stiffen my gutless spine?

 

To say that I can fight what crushes us,

or feign peace to cover my fear,

Of the bludgeons and tearing bullets,

That lash upon those who do not adhere.

 

Though I may cast no stone, I still may still yet be broken,

Words are not so easily killed and safety is an illusion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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