all the same

i find it funny... that all of our freedoms,
our riches, our varying beliefs, our strengths,
everything we've accomplished, built, destroyed,
and all of the wide open spaces in between,
all rest on the same
unleveled ground.

and that we will continue to plow and pick
the same tired scab
from the same timeless wound
over and over again,
until the last soul is spent.

it's the root of all the anger, the fighting, and the god-awful art.
and yet, it's the force of compassion, empathy, love, and benevolence
and the inspiration behind almost
every
magnum
opus.

that stupid question.

we fight maniacally
for the freedom to relax and ignore it,
escape it, worship it, redefine it, mock it,
and even paint over it.

whatever it takes

to make it

comfortable,

manageable,

understandable,

BEARABLE.

anything

to steer our thoughts clear of that
terrible, unknown emptiness.

anything

to keep the fear and uncertainty

from owning the rights.

and live the immaculate conception.

to accept it.

to love it.

to close our eyes... and pretend.

my goodness,
isn't it incredible
that the emptiness
is the only thing
that binds us together.