The Divide

If it wasn't a start
It must not have
Began.
The Stand
That would band
Man
Together
With his goat named Scape.
The nape
Of my neck
Is sweaty.
I'll bet he's
Thinking about me.
Hoping I
Believe
What needs
To be believed.
So that his point
Comes across.

Across
The divide.
Where on one side
There's a tide
Of the mind
That believes there's
Motion
In this ocean
Self righteous teachings
and Pacifistic thought.
All caught
In a wave that doesn't cease
Peace

The far side
Is a far cry
From peace
Love
And good little children.
It spills them.
Over
Into the wrong side
Of their heads.
Teaching them
Pride for the dead.
Teaching them
Fight for the bread.
Teaches them
All the wrong shit
And it
Ain't getting better.
Thinking
You can just do
Whatever
And the world will grow?

Ohhhhhhhhhh!
This bridge
Has to come down.
This town
Was built
On stilts
Deep in the ground.
The sound
Still resonates
With the hate
Workers left
With every hole they dug.
And the tug
On my heart
Is a start.
At least it means
I feel.
At least it means
I'm real
You still
Want me to choose sides.
You want me
To cross this divide.
But I float in the middle
And your fiddle
Is playing a sad song.
Problem is
It's too long.

War is not
The answer.
It's the cancer
That grows off
The blows
That men tend
To throw at
Each other.
They don't bother
To talk
And just walk.
They can't find
The time.
The better
Weapon's the Mind.
And I'm
Armed to the teeth.

© 2007 Timely Disposition