Seven years and maybe change
but a few of those years don't count
and have we really changed?
If so, perhaps for the worse
The animal instinct raging as the
selfish take their toll and their tax
on the psyche of the rest as they flock and flounder
The anger at our neighbors
and the exposing of beliefs so foreign
the aliens aren't from other countries
but other planets, galaxies with gaps
in what should have been civility,
ethics only count to maintain control
communication a tool to lie
respect for others a weakness
Maybe change is for the best
masks and carapaces ripped away
ugliness exposed, celebrated by some
the rest look on mouths agape
But hey that was then and this is now
the days spread apart but condensing
two thousand plus fly by
and nothing stays the same except the pace
I can't promise anything returns
to the way it was then, now,
but for once, some words can flow
that will sit without conversation
Stagnant words can still ring true
the longer they sit and age
while others seem flippant and not diffused
by the filters of pain and rage
