Loss In A Broken Furrow

Rolling the dyke

Wide arm so open

So real

Tangled mind

With no strings attached

Racing for the finish line

With heart still pumping

Think, where, when

What will happen to the children?

The jungle of a place

So unreal

So callous

What matter has no longer existed?

What is trending is so distorted.


What we are now is limited.

Real color becomes an art for condolence.

You cannot see what is real.

Separation of the heart from the soul

When will children have a break?

Over the sea the danger looms.

Distortion of imagery

Undelivered memos

Unkempt envoys

The eye services, the adversary,

The protractors,

The muddles, jumbles, and nimble

The ones you can no longer trust

Those that you can never see again

Those that made it a race

When and where can they  have a wondrous place

In amidst of it all

Pray for sanity, for peace, for love, for merciless peace

A time to sit down and raise your hand

A place to quietly wipe the tears

Because the trust is still up in the air

When you can feel, see, the loss of a golden furrow



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