To Pay the Price or Not, That Is the Question

On contemplating the Middle East and War

Morals are often mores
We build walls of supposedly sacred sanctions
Around our cultural prejudices

Sides are taken because thoughts
Encased in ancient feuds refuse the light
Of enlightenment and carry heavily armored
Tanks that fire guns and cannot see out beyond
A small periscope whose lenses are covered with
The filth of fear. I pray to be released from mine
To fall down before the sweet freedom of love and truth
To pull my zipper down even if it means my pants will fall
And everyone sees my nakedness, a very small price to pay for peace.

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