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Poem

As we the birds of hatred soar, who are we at our core?
Is light skin or dark skin a different color on the inside?
Life's a long hallway; choices open locks at its ends door 

Is our blood a different shade as the wet scar is dried?
Words can be the sharpest blade, covered their feelings of poison, brought
As we the birds of hatred soar, who are we at our core?

Do we own those thoughts or base them on how we are too lied?
Seems like every soul they give, they leave to time; more too lay in rot
Life's a long hallway; choices open locks at its ends door

Are my beliefs wrong, because in your faith, one for me died?
Your inner child, or my children, both are born pure of damning thought
As we the birds of hatred soar, who are we at our core?

My heart's bone cage is built the same to which yours does reside
If love can pierce mine, then grow within yours, it can too, can it not?
Life's a long hallway; choices open locks at its ends door

Were it only as simple for humans to swallow deep our pride
As it is for our faith in love of each other to be, forgot
As we the birds of hatred soar, who are we at our core?
Life's a long hallway; choices open locks at its ends door



                                         *********
Line of inquiry:

“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay 
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”

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