A Pacifist In Use

I, at the best, am to you,
You, at the best, am to me,
What mirrors that could only reflect shapes can be

Winds with which we wish to crush each others stars,
Are but forefathers to the inane of our worlds

For we can not, we just can not
Fill our drills with our suns,
Slide in our anger for our bullets,

For we can not, we just can not,
Tie our ruffians to our hands,
Build homes that go steep and go in the direction of going,

For we can not, we just can not,

How sad for us that our plea markets should trick us so,
How fat for us that the playful one should be in our teams,

But now, should we just have to get mean,
Step over ourselves we should,
Pork and fish, only, should our diet be,
The precarious, only, should our friends be,

But the sad truth does exist,
That we can care and can be cared for,
How sad it is that pacifist could be of use,
That pacifist could exist.

For we can not, we just can not.

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Comments (1)

A wonderful poem, Yashovardhan. Thank you for sharing