Peculiar

Peculiar, really, you know, strange.

Meticulous ants that carry dinner on their backs

Yet I am uncertain of what this all means,

at least to me, to others?  No one cares anyway.

 

A playing child falls and scraps a knee, but to no alarm, this is only the first

Prayers ascend to heaven in a multitude of voices, but there is no confusion,

for all is heard and duly noted

 

Weeping and jubilation, can they be present at the same juncture, well no matter, it happens,

it always does

Terror-stricken, and running with all abandonment of mind, a constant reminder,

for those who listen

 

Crowded streets, lonely souls drift, been that a way for, well forever

The prey, the predator, nature as the unforgiving gavel of justice, and it will be complete

 

Lips press tightly, arms reassure with candor and care, they too shall pass, but so shall you

Above me the light changes red, green, yellow, and red again

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