Fearacismeaningless

destiny for sale. fate for give-away. when did we let growth become decay? hate is easy medicine curing uncertainties and worry. different is scary. future’s always blurry. he waves his arms and speaks of possibilities to face. somehow it always revolves around race. ghosts from our past fly over howling and ringing, reminding us we’re wrong again happy end precedes frightening beginning. who will be of consequence? who will pay the price? where should we point our fingers? any face would suffice.