I come from a land where…
In every breath I take,
Some 4 seconds apart
In every beat of my heart,
About 75 times a minute
Structured of a palm,
There are times thoughts gather
Which I cannot wish away
Let’s walk a step towards peace
But my damn legs will not move Continue reading →
Young turks, crass riff raff, a foot in the door and then gradually elbowing their way in. Desperate to control, a sign of the times.
The genteel, old fogies, value systems constrained, constricted and then crowded out, shown the door.