it is so hard,
these days,
to have Optimism,
with Hope
and Truth,
handcuffed together
to a drainpipe in a back room;

in a world where
Majesty is ignored,
and Travesty is adored,
we arrive at the
Tri-City junction,
the function of all our
as the core of our nation
"Welcome to the Tri-City area --
Mendacity, Duplicity, and Complicity --
and we commend nothing,
we are worth nothing,
and we have nothing,
not even Love for each other;

in what dark corner,
in what dank cellar,
in what forsaken spit of land,
will we find our hind legs,
and once again,

not for me, or for you,
but for our grandchildren's grandchildren
once, but right now,
right now;

get up, dammit,
all of you,

demand that Love
and Truth
once again rule;
that every living thing
no longer suffer the fools
who would chain us,
demean us,
overtake us,
devour us,
eclipse our imprint,
deny our existence,
and run roughshod
over our dreams,
as the tracks of our tears
become just what they seem,
cascades of happiness lost,
signposts of the cost
of silent screams;

Buk said,
and Allen bled,
the central theme:
live with a purpose,
die with a wish
that you made come true,
but most of all,
and stand up on your hind legs,
shout to the rooftops,
howl, if you choose,
and be free.

August 10, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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