We live in a broken age
When good means lists of honours
Accolades breed healers
An arm raised means victory
No ONE – NO ONE notices
True success is honour-phobic
An honour gourd is our master
Chain and Collar clapping and clanging
No ONE – NO ONE can really see
An inconsistent consistency
All we have is our bushfire
To Spread puff signals called truth
All we are – What we are – Not God
Perspective – Consistent – He’s real
Read – Your book – Your BIBLE – and live?
Call life vain then go and die
Consistently inconsistent
Like the end of each verse
Is the lie of out life that –
All our lines; they rhyme




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I am me. I am Me. I write when I want to be free.

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