The Quiet Muse writes of building bridges, all too flammable.
We’re united in our division.
Someone has to be right,
and someone must be wrong.
Everything becomes a battle
too many are willing to fight.
We try to fill the gaps between us,
hoping one day we will learn,
but every time we build a bridge,
there’s always someone, somewhere,
who simply wants to watch it burn.
Yes, we say we are united
as we draw lines upon the sand.
We gather words as weapons,
forging them from facts we think we know,
then choose a side and firmly make our stand.
Self proclaimed, self -righteous warriors
charge forth with vitriolic indignation,
under the guise of what they believe is right,
without regard for who gets hurt,
their final victim will be our nation.
Us against them and them against us.
Arsenals filled with rhetoric, stats, and lies.
Angry accusations violently explode,
blinding everyone with shrapnel
till they’ve lost sight of…
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