Much

.

And when there is so much to be done

About all that there is, about nothing,

Can we truly believe everything

Our spirits murmur once they are gone?

Oh when there is so little to do

For all we make, we destroy, we undo,

Can this beautiful world truly be changed

By a family that has long been estranged?

Is it worth it to keep on fighting this fight?,

Asks the wanderer with a sad smile;

He who has finally set foot home feels in exile

For everything has changed with insight…

.


We are the children.

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