March 7, 2012
My thoughts swirl and my ears are open,
and I’m willing to listen to ease what’s broken,
but words and feelings of foreign descent
bustle on in and set up their tents
and camp for a while, enjoying my thoughts
until all of mine joined or were lost;
they dance together, close and as one,
but day turns to night and the fire’s begun.
Grey smoke starts to rise and cloud all the rest,
I feel my breath catch and squeeze in my chest.
Panic and fear run chaos around
and my thoughts and opinions fall to the ground.
Smoke thickens to black and hope chokes one last phrase:
“The foreigners caused this, they got their way.”

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