Nov 24, 2021
It matters not the stuff or fat, the offal, brain or innards, what face adhered with barnacles as won on life's fair passage. A palor smooth like cappuccin — or hairy, sprouted grin — what costs us dear, or benefits, is character within.
The skull beneath the skin that peers devious or kind, that seeks a sly advantage — or shares with us the sky. When to each other’s aid we come or mutely mouth betrayal, who'll cross road to help or conspire in denial?
The line is taut from family to business and religion, the heredity to which you cling may be your perdition. Or is the fingered abacus of dollars, pounds and euro what causes you to monetize the profit earned from horror?
And if we play by social rules, or those of sports and war, who calls the shots, observes fair game and bids the teams play on? For peace to hold and concord we must impress our right to hear the ones who beg of us: identify the crime.
Can we file suit, appeal, or must we hold our tongue when lady justice takes the stand and cries that wrong was done? There is no arbiter or bolt from high that calls down heav’n’s revenge — nor compensates our loss.
The planets quail as Harmony forgets the lyrics to her song…
We buy the myth of plenitude, when right should be our hymn. Then yield limbic consciousness to him that would be king. From disinterest to banditry, the path is short and narrow, cross me once and I'll forgive. Twice: eternal sorrow.
Ⓒ Moneycircus 2021
I scared my wife this morning:
I told her that I will fight ant attempts at being forced to get vexxed,
EVEN if that means taking a bullet;
EVEN if it means taking a life to protect my loved ones, children or myself.