Posted in Poetry

Is it a race?

When did we stop being part of the human race?

In that sentence can the problem have trace?

A race is competitive

A fight to just live

It is not a group of people

Divided by Quran or steeple

No longer a war in words

It is instead death in herds

We no longer see the individual

Replaced by the importance of ritual

Groups of people ceremoniously labelled

Through that their death compelled

Life is a scary proposition

For any person’s disposition

Stand up for any cause

That some one else deplores

Can result in instant resistance

The fight not restricted in distance

No longer can we simply debate

Argument now the source of hate



I was 46 years old when I begun this blog, female and married with a house full of cats (7). My past is littered with the impact of events that happened when I was a teen. Two loves of my life have been nursing and studying. I just completed my Master of Arts: Media Studies endorsement. My blog will be about the things I think about, that might be better served being written rather than squirreled away in my mind festering. It is the meanderings of my mind as I seek to define myself and my world.

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