In the foxholes
Of my childhood plight
I prayed and prayed
With all my might
Praying to be forgiven
For the imperfections
Of life
Yet these were merely
The symptoms
Of an ideology
Of either black
Or definitely white
With the rudimentary
Truths concealed
Those miracles
Seem so **** real
I could never lose
My faith
In that childhood
Holding place
When the years pass
In deep thought
Ultimate conclusions
Result
Each of us
An eye
From different views
Allegiance forged
In the comfort of norm
Evolutionary rules
Oh how I miss you
Invisible spirit being
Oh my contemporary
Youth...
Traveler Tim