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Worrisome
Although some seem unconcerned,
Finding little fault or fight.
My fears are seeing exponents,
In the equation of wrong and right.
When opposing views are fundamental,
The roots of truth spread wide and far.
While stretching realities fabric, to a
Conforming figure, and liar.
The conflicts cover the landscape,
From the highest point, to all beneath.
And the battles are often bloody,
As those combatants are losing teeth.
Does our humanity find some clarity,
Within this fog of discontent?
Or does it fall victim to the smoke,
With no insurance to pay the rent?
In all my years before, these many
Worries were never reached.
Yet my hopes will seek survival,
As justice sanctions, those impeached.
Copyright ©
Timothy Mattson
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