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there is some kindness in the way the earth is suspended on gravity's back. how it rotates on it's axis, bound by the sacred trust that space won't bottom out & shake us all from the earth like crumbs in the bed. there is little kindness in the way the earth is suspended in war, in turmoil; with handguns & machine guns & bombs strapped to civilians- tied to the greater majority with the intentions of a few. there is little kindness in fighting fire with fire- when our own backyards are burning & our neighbors are to blame. there is little kindness in the fear of what lies beneath a burka, a niqab, a turban- a police uniform, a trench coat or a white robe & a pointed white hood. there is little kindness in the terror that sleeps in the backs of our minds and sets up shop in our beds & lays low while we condemn the third world, the local news just confirms and confirms and confirms- we were killing each other first. there is little kindness in seeing humanity as this side of the border or that. the world is more of a revolving door that spins you dizzily & spits you back out. there is some kindness in the way gravity still holds the earth like some sick, sad science fair project; like some ****** consolation prize. humanity is a bed of crumbs clinging thanklessly to sheets.
0
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
crumbs in the bed.
there is some kindness in the way the earth is suspended on gravity's back. how it rotates on it's axis, bound by the sacred trust that space won't bottom out & shake us all from the earth like crumbs in the bed. there is little kindness in the way the earth is suspended in war, in turmoil; with handguns & machine guns & bombs strapped to civilians- tied to the greater majority with the intentions of a few. there is little kindness in fighting fire with fire- when our own backyards are burning & our neighbors are to blame. there is little kindness in the fear of what lies beneath a burka, a niqab, a turban- a police uniform, a trench coat or a white robe & a pointed white hood. there is little kindness in the terror that sleeps in the backs of our minds and sets up shop in our beds & lays low while we condemn the third world, the local news just confirms and confirms and confirms- we were killing each other first. there is little kindness in seeing humanity as this side of the border or that. the world is more of a revolving door that spins you dizzily & spits you back out. there is some kindness in the way gravity still holds the earth like some sick, sad science fair project; like some ****** consolation prize. humanity is a bed of crumbs clinging thanklessly to sheets.
nikki-armstrong
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
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