As we get older we find that absolutes are harder to define

There are ways of doing things

But never exact solutions:

“Be kind”

“Try your best”

“Always be polite”

Have not been passed down by accident

They are the only things we know

But even they are lost as we translate them:

“Be tough”

“Find the quickest way”

“Say what’s on your mind”

Moderation is a key that has been lost as

We stuff our eyes with as many colors as we can 

Until the iris is a saucer that blocks out the light 

We take what we want 

And keep what isn’t ours

If it’s there it can’t be resisted 

Even when it will break us apart from ourselves

Let this movement fade as we beat each other with words

I don’t want to hear your voice until it fills this world with hope


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