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Poem

The cornerstone turned the corner
reading a map without
ever looking back
A nomad with knapsack in tow
sowed seeds without 
worrying if they'd
ever grow
For them it's just a show but
for me the latter 
none of the optics matter
while climbing the ladder
of purpose
On the surface the dirty game is
plain to see but many
can't see the forest
for the trees erected
on this plane
These games are ground level 1
& in stark contrast
to a farmer marching
to the beat of his own drum
and self-made treble
Troublesome for frequency counters
for he is one of one
plus 2
I guess countering devilish moves
& the color of night is
similar to playing checkers right?
Chess isn't so black & white so
I double down while looking up
counting all hands
in the equation with respect
Brazen expressions add up to
answers followed by
questionable remarks by 
those living in the dark
Supposedly I'm just a number but
within that I am the new
U
An ember in a world going down
in flames shinning
like a diamond yet to be
given a name
In truth I am a Phoenix flying
higher than planes
looking down
at the ashes & pigeons
Even if my wings aren't seen they're
felt like emotions & lava
spewing emissions that bring
out a shine like smelted
gold
We're all the same viewed through
different lenses
but who is directing our
cold comprehension?
I spy a theme colored with & by
an artistic stroke
looking to poke holes
in any sense of hope
Division can go unnoticed
if it is drawn with
the precision of
a surgeon
Make decisions wisely or else
be burdened until
the end of days
Be precise while navigating this
maze for there are some
that pray against
& prey on any 
foundation you intend
to lay
We're way past mayday in these
Kamikaze times
& mushroom clouds
will come if they continue
flying blind

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