Possibilities

there is a silence here, it grows like a whisper,

a quiet, controlled pause, a small, knowing glance,

a foreign substance, speaking a language

all its own;

we have become a nation of whores,

selling our children to the highest bidder,

devouring their inheritance for a pittance,

accepting the consequences, with no thought

for tomorrow, trapped within the madness

of the method, replacing character with content;

ends justifying means;

false prophets, in love with the sound

of their own voices, forever searching,

but never seeing, forever finding,

but never understanding, unaware,

unsuspecting;

sometimes knowing the answers

is not nearly as important as imagining

the possibilities;

the light of a new dawn begins to break,

I am leaving this dark place, going to a

home unknown, what tomorrow brings

does not matter;

You will be there to make it right,

You will be there to wipe away

every tear.

.

.