Paintings of the dead,
organized by hue and shade,
grouped by color,
in all different arrays.

Alphabetized,
books stacked on a shelf.
Blank pages,
read aloud to oneself.

If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.

Dead bodies aligned,
in a mile long row,
how those people died,
nobody seems to know.

Flowers in a field,
pushing through the soil,
crushed under the weight,
of drills drilling for oil.

If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.

Waves crash softly,
into a weathered shore,
only to recede and repeat,
dragging sea shells to the ocean floor.

If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.

The weight of the world,
rests on the shoulders of man.
And trust me, I know,
we're doing all we can.