The Fact

The Fact(s) It started with a poem. Penned in by mistake. Then it ended up in a letter, that later turned into an email. That was forwarded, not once but a thousand, and then ten million times. Then someone was asked, what it all meant. They were floored by the fact, no one knew. But some did, and some took action. Some gathered, while others spent. Some prayed, will others chose to laugh. Respectful of no one, nothing is as it was, and the old have no bones, left to gnaw. Awaken the lazy child, staying in the basement... living on the meat sized portion, of the daily bread, at the discretion of their own parents, busy making a living, before they die. A level field of uncommon valor, that has no heroism in it at all. One no better the next, cogs in the wheels... of a larger machine. Then broken and left, beside the road, rotting... on their way, to nowhere.