Assumptions
It is merely speculation
Yet we get ourselves worked up
Before it’s said and done
We conclude, it’s just too tough
All because of a notion
Not a concrete fact
We question, where we’re going
Eyes fixed on our own backs
We determine that we know
The Who, what, why and where
Frigid feelings snow
Tension chills the air
Defensive out of spite
Caused by our suspicions
Could be wrong, may be right
We assemble our own prisons
Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2018
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