Counting the Mad

This one breathes lies when the air is filled with truth. This one plants ghosts when the earth yearns to bear fruit. This one steals flowers from tranquility’s hands. This one builds walls in wide-open spaces. This one babbles on in a self-made Babylon. This one batters beauty. This one silences the prayer within a prayer within a prayer. This one plays games whose only reward is blood. This one longs to shackle us in chains. This one wants to make us doormats for his goose-stepping ways. This one dreams himself a gun to kill those not like him. Another day of counting the mad to understand how to move more calmly through the world.

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