And where indeed have all those slim lines
of genuine verse gone?

What has become of the Garden wrought of dreams
and a love so keen that it could barely be spoken of?

Wherefore gone the desires for quiet words
and innocent love-making?

I will tell you that they have been drowned
by the cries for justice gone so long unheard.

They have been swallowed up by the indifference
of a nation so engrossed in consumption that the world outside
our borders and within only exists on television.

But the real fact of the matter is that I am ashamed,
I am ashamed of myself most of all,
for if I truly cared as much as I say I do,
I'd have stopped writing altogether by now,
and started doing more....

I'd be reaching out to whoever would listen
to whomever I could find
to those of us that don't want to wake up one day
and realize only too late
that we are all in fact slaves.