so many gallons of anguish; a few drops of remorse
not nearly enough authentic salve for the open wounds
handed to us by our poisonous culture which we unwittingly paste all over our
hearts and minds.
masks to meticulously create and forget.
forget you still have all of them on.
on which table that is turning
will you spin?
will you ever let this in?
will you grow to a height so massive
that you will no longer be able to see
or smell the soil from which you came?
Do you think you want to know your origins now?
Do you consider claiming your source?
Or do you want to sever from
to become your very own
sovereign force?
so many gallons of anguish
so few drops of remorse
did you think about your source
or did you want
your very own
private force?
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