A fetish for takers and feckless of makers,
believers of fakers and the muckrakers,
a sea of red buttons seen from above,
swaying to orange for whom they love.
~
The air is heated with hate that’s spewed.
But that’s cool if already screwed.
Mirrors shine on what’s not there,
while reflection dulls what’s to fear.
~
A line in the ocean’s making waves,
digging ever deeper graves.
Float if be as bobbing naves,
but beware or soon be slaves.
~
No half or full with no cup,
once buried there is no up.
What lies below lies above,
only truth can raise all with love.

~*~
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