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woman raising her hands

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All life is a dance

On a thin razor’s edge

‘Tween rigid and chance.

silhouette people on beach at sunset

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There are two ways to die

To fall off that ledge:

Honor the Truth — or Live out the Lie.

blur close up focus ground

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You might fight for the right

And still end up dead. 

You could turn from the luminous light

You can slink and surrender instead. 

gray industrial machine during golden hour

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You can wrap a leash around your neck

And hand the lead to a feckless wreck.

Say, “Here you go; I’m your slave now.

Train me how to bow and kowtow.” 


He’ll wink and nod and blink, the old sod. 

“I want you to do me a favor though.

You see those people; they look so odd.

I want you to shoot them row by row.”


Having leashed your soul to the Worst of the Worst, 

You’ll kill more lives in an endless shift-show.

You’ll lie to yourself; be an elf on the shelf. 

Bow to the will of the First of the Cursed. 


You’ll force a false-faced smarmy smile, 

As you shout out your shoddy sickening “Heil! 

Millions may die but you care not a jot.

You’re already dead so you let the lot rot.  


Life is a dance

On a thin razor’s edge

Of rigid and chance.

people dancing on dance floor

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There are two ways to die

To fall off the ledge: 

Honor the Truth — or, Live out the Lie.

time lapse photography of waterfalls during sunset

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

You may fashion a last and desperate try

To derail the Failure that many see wrapped

In the “Finest of Finery” — armored with Lie,

Unable to move — in his own web trapped. 


Think and link in a world-wide win.

Throw off the shackles of such shadowy sin.

Refuse to play for the Clown at the Helm 

Or his shadowy puppets all over the realm.


They’ll stumble and fall and all turn to ash.

Their only bonds are their hatred and cash. 

You’ll join with others across this vast land;

You’ll sing together your fairness demand. 


Those who shrugged and laughed at need?

Protections fall from those slaves of greed.

Even the cruelest of the cruel can bleed.

Fertile fields will fill with thorn and weed.


If no-one will drive, none will survive. 

If no-one will pick — none left alive.

If no-one will cure, bake or douse fire?

Those cruelest are building their own Karma pyre. 

orange flame

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Life is a dance

On that thin razor’s edge

‘Tween rigid and chance.

pile of stones

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There are two ways to die

To fall off that ledge: 

Honor the Truth or Live out the Lie.


The dealers of death want to close all the blinds

Shutter out light; squelch questioning minds. 

So, poke a small hole — let the light shine through!

The future of freedom? It’s all up to you. 


And me. 

And you.

And you. 

And you.

Author Page on Amazon

Ripples: How Actions Today Determine Our Future

You Know: Do you Feed the Good Wolf or the Bad Wolf?

Rejecting Adulthood. It’s Easy to Pass on Responsibility 

The Truth Train: What went so Wrong? 

Citizen Soldiers (1)

Citizen Soldiers (2)

Citizen Soldiers (3)

SHRUGS: Super-Hyper Really Ultra Greedy Swindlers 


A Tale of Karma

Winning by Cheating is Losing 

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing