Tear it all down. It will come back again. Punch me in the face. I will double my pace. Momentum quickens with oppression. Protests multiply through opposition. The voice of democracy wins by who shouts loudest. There are thousands gathering to sleep in tents through the Winter with no solace.
And it all goes by so fast.
From the day they are born.
To the day they leave.
We are all in a state of leaving.
I think of tomorrow.
And all the moments I will miss
Watching them grow
As I sit behind a desk.
There is a revolution brewing in 1000 cities. People willing to put their bodies on the line. Get broken by storm troopers while peacefully assembling. Faces bleeding. I write these words torn. My heart reeling.
Torn between my obligation to provide and hide.
Torn by my fear that it’s too late to act.
Feeling this train going off the tracks.
That no matter the size of my carbon footprint
My neighbors feet are much larger.
I want the best for my children.
They are so absolutely perfect.
So young and naive.
They have been born into a tragic sea
Of humanity fighting for the powers that be.
One big game of football it seems to me.
Pick your team hesitantly.
All the while Europe is tearing apart. The gamble of economists losing as protesters continue to fight for their rights. People are saving food and water. Buying ammunition. Thinking of Armageddon. As I sit behind my desk and make design decisions. Should it be moved up or down? A smaller font or maybe make it round?
My children are sleeping in the next room.
My youngest says she’s an angel without wings.
I truly believe her.
My oldest is learning to run fast.
She is learning to play Mary had a Little Lamb.
Where did Mary’s lamb go?
It was white as snow.