Whomever you meet,
you will no doubt be in conflict,
that is the nature of the beast,
you and I,
cut by chromatic dividing lines,
split by life decisions,
perspective of the past, present and future,
separation of church and state of mind,
women as companions,
women as *******,
charity as obligation,
charity as privilege,
meaning it means it something,
or not at all,
who's to say?
A dichotomy of idealistic sentimentality,
different cogs in the same broken machine,
we are all twisted gears in a mal-adapted tree,
that bears no fruit,
and whether the strong rule,
or if the weak share the shattered remains,
means little to me,
we are all equally hopeless,
fractal personalities,
torn by social stratification,
at the core we are broken,
and I love it.