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Some thoughts around our current events, for those who should still be here |
Contrast Lines crossed, left in tatters, contrasts viewed that jar Black and white lines matter, divided as they are 'midst scenes recorded, played back, broadcast to the crowd A show of force, so laid back, accepted... disavowed with people present grieving, a stagnant beating heart Having trouble breathing, the actors play their part Different players, different screenings, a part tied in the wings Different people, different leanings, 'take a knee', means different things Things considered black and white, imagined shades of grey Filtered through a spark, it lights, blazing up the day A city set to riot, blaze, a city set alight; as nations wonder why it plays, unchanged, the same... despite despite the climb in volume, despite the sounds behind; a picture skewed, grey scale, viewed found much more sharp, defined Demonstrations, stirred up, starker, 'midst the chaos in the fray In the dark, and getting darker ... blacker by the day With sainthoods sold to sinners, Martyrs raised at rival gates Nobody leaves a winner, divided are the states As left and right clash, heated, truths butt, collapse beneath; the weight of what is tweeted, by either side, bequeathed A narrative held horrid, tales teased, and spun from lies A picture heated, torrid, with the contrast set to high A pot to boil over, a tinderbox run dry Flames fanned, they have their drovers, in embers, hard truths lie Lay dead, defending windows, people bowed down, 'neath a knee A storm long due as winds blow, from the depths of history with flora cut by florists fauna isolated... mute Analysing angry forests ... ignoring deeper roots The people who should be here, regardless of their crimes Anger founded in the fear, reason lost in darker rhymes A random mess of riddles, shades of dark and light No space left in the middle, reduced to black and white "midst isolated scapegoats, to pacify a mob; justified as pawns go, ... they pray, they'll do their job Their purpose in the long game, as books' long pages turn; 'midst strawmen drawn in both names, incendiary, flames burn Orange far removed from black, with colours far from new A segregation of the pack, split, parted, black and blue an image hard to understand, statistics skew and twist; a Bible in his tiny hand, with figures in the mist missed and hit, truths pending, posts trending, losing track; with situations ending, In the red... not in the black Ink black, crossed white washed paper, the distances between The lines that twist and caper, both read, and left unseen unseen as contrasts shatter, in shadows, vague, they lay Where black and white lines matter ... 'midst fractured shades of grey |