parts of you,

parts of me,

we learned to cover

long ago.

Leaving the safety

of ourselves,

venturing into

someone else.

Pausing only

now and then

to sniff the wind,

still as moonlight

in the darkness,



A perfect animal;

born of prey.

Who’d have thought

you’d be the killer

you are today?

So much trepidation,

siding with safety,

blind to opinion,

fighting injustice.

So, you know

you are not guilty

of anything

other than being

easily programmed.



seeker of meaning,

you set your

animosity aside

and rose to the day.

You heard

the call of the many,

forsaking everything

you struck out

your own way.


Here you are,


gun in your hand,

eyes full of fire,

lungs full of smoke,

and blood on your face.

You never thought

of yourself as “brave”,

but here you are

facing down a nation.


Who knew

you would be

so quickly recruited?

Turned against yourself,

so effortlessly.

The mind

is the ultimate battlefield

and it’s not even fair,

like wrestling with children.


Stop hitting yourself.

Stop hitting yourself.



HG – 2020

Leave a Reply