We Are Poets

Bird’s-eye view of
the human
condition,

of happiness,
avarice,
altruism
and sadness-

We are freedom of
thought
and speech
in both
boulevards of war
and avenues
of peace,

watching
history repeat as
the endurance
of self-assurance
and greed

duke it
out
for supremacy.

We are the looking glass
through which
conflict passes. It
manifests in our
passages,

under
presidents
and
dictators
alike.

(The two are
sometimes
more entwined than
we’d
like.)

We are the
scribes of
sociological lives, our
ink only silenced
when there’s no
love or violence
left
to vilify.

Nature gives
us the gift,
nurturers turned
murderous
lured it toward
cynicism.

Whatever’s
left in the
aftermath,
we were
responsible for.

And I’m
only getting
started.

This
isn’t even
my final form.

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