The place of fear envelops here.
No way to tell, what’s coming
From the rear, or what’s ahead.
The smoking mirror is an illusion.
…
Sometimes I wonder where
Is truth in life? Where do the two
Intersect, when it really matters?
Lies confuse, swallow what’s real.
…
The lie I feel to be real, is
That which hangs around my neck,
When I gather in spaces,
Of those with like mindedness.
…
Bricks and mortar, or digital
Groups, it doesn’t matter.
Both are full of walls, constructed
Alike, to keep others out.
…
I am out, even if I am in.
I am not present, when the lies
Begin. I step out, of my own
Volition, when the air is thin.
…
I have no patience, for groups
Dividing, over fears of others,
Who do not threaten. Being
Unique is not a sin,
…
Without or within.
Yet, I find in my behavior,
The same judgment, of myself,
And those around me.
…
Perhaps, it is most true,
In those who are least comfortable
With themselves or others,
A state of being, most common.
…
And with the discomfort,
Comes a fear, a sense of
Vulnerability, to be devoured,
By the enemies that exist,
…
Even if those enemies are created,
In ones own mind alone,
For we also put up walls around
Ourselves, in order to protect,
…
Even if there is no need,
For we do not realize, sometimes,
Who is with and who is against, for
Those who put up walls,
…
Can be our greatest friends.
I hope I come to see, the company
That’s all around me, is the asset
Best to help me, my true family.
