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Poem

It is very difficult to envision
The savior
Who will he be ?
When will he come
What color will he be
Height, weight ?
What religion will he be ?
Will he be all that we hoped for
What language will he speak
Will he care who and what we are
Or where we came from will he care about money
Or will he, be a she or neither
What will he do to stop the killing
What can he possibly say that hasn’t already been said
It is very hard to fathom
Have we become so cold
Death and violence are everywhere
That is the cold hard fact, no one is immune
We are a race, running to win the race of survival
A breed, a predator with knowledge
A desperate mass with no focus
A greed driven, power hungry propelled
Adrenaline injected mass of unpredictable prime evil rage
Enveloped in a brainwashed chassis
Ironic how we measure honor, in gallons of blood
At the expense of our own, paying the bill
Unfortunately, we are at our best in the throws of rage
When we are seeking justice for wrongs done to us
If you’ve ever looked, I mean really looked at the violence
Daily !
You realize that you’ve become immune to it
Like a childhood disease
Only affected if it interrupts your life
Terminal, death……..and then the cycle begins again
Destruction's passion stimulated for revenge
Of the wrongdoings done them
Never ending self-service of eternities nocturnal rest
Whether forced or natural, it’s coming, be ready

Eric (and sometimes not)

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