SOARING HIGH & FREEHe seeks his sustenance, soaring over stubble
We seek ours, running over others
Heedless of our damages as we rout
Our nightmares and dump our dreams
Working ceaseless tears, wounds unbound
Festering in our loved ones while
We dance amidst their scars wondering
Why they persist in ignoring us
Oh, to soar as the vulture after some purpose
Removing eyesores instead of making them
Cleansing our earth preferred to further
Filthifying it with our offal and discards
Whether of flesh, bone, or other materiel
Freshly cast off for another to find
Heave a plenty upon discovering our
Worst days' labors, heavy into autumn's
Rising tides, sunbeams, and clouds
Attempting eternity and falling far short
Riding high on our puny egos' delusions
Whilst we sink another's truest dreams
All in aid of our self-absorption
And to our peril, for we are not islands
Rather bastions of hope for those
Wounded in service of our liberty.
@ 2010 by P.K. Taylor (Flora Belle Jardiniere)
