The world won’t stop spinning.
What to do when the constant motion of creation creeps into your head.
When the buzzing of atoms echoes in your skull.
When swirling electron stirs your thoughts.
When the angst of the earth takes up residence in your heart.
When you carry more than any one person should.
When injustice haunts you and turns your stomach.
When another’s pain steals your sleep.
When worry swallows calm.
When rest becomes an alien, and peace a dream.
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The dog’s scratching at the door.
Whimpering, wanting more.
Skin itches, can’t be reached,
and the truth lies un-preached.
We can’t find them or remember
and the forgotten surrender.
When the unsinkable ship slips beneath cold and icy waters.
When the brother, or the father, or the mother sell daughters.
When your conversation or life lies unfinished and wanting.
Wicked fortune parades with the noise, flags, and flaunting.
Twisted, sickening weight in the stomach when a child’s lost.
The transport, the arrangement, the touch – horror, and cost.
When evil is more than a monster and becomes a machine.
When the moving parts connect with what appeared clean.
Where are they, who cares?
Darkness stands on basement stairs.
At the bottom a lonely door,
behind it imprisoned, chained to the floor.
When we stop searching, crying, and advocates slumber.
The un-lived life is turned into and for a simple number.
