My roots are shallow, not so deep
I do not sow, nor do I reap
I'm skin and bone, not earth and stone
I do not own the world alone
There is some insecurity in me
I am free but to a degree
Waiting for the next panic to arrive
for flexing manic men to rise
to drag us to another place
where they will tag the human race
on the forehead, on the hand
or you can't buy bread, understand?

Some people can wait
     Before they die;
Hold on for a loved one
     To say Good-bye.
To have one more Spring,
     Or any Season,
For Love or Closure,
     This we reason.
Now many can leave
     This coil of doubt,
Guilty they heard,
     On all thrity-four counts.

Is my kindness,
And my compassion and humility are my religion.
3/6/2024