I
always come back to this same place
Where
the shores of oppression are awash
With
the scattered empty shells of the sea’s most hapless,
Beings
snatched up by the savage jaws
Of
the ever-devouring winged beast that dominate the air,
Each
justifying its existence in this strong over weak world
Where
any thing can be rationalized as long as one side wins,
Right
and wrong, good and bad, mere labels to post on flags
So
that one might explain and moralize the slaughter
As
something other than eat or be eaten,
When
the weak are most often the least able to eat
And
are most often eaten to bloat bellies and inflate egos
Of
those powerful enough to do what they wish
Without
consequence or conscience.
I
have spent most of my life wrongfully enamored with this sea,
Seeing
justice and fair play where there is only chaos and greed,
Once
believing that everything evens out amid the ebb and flow of waves
When
all we get are the washed up bodies of those unable to compete.
