I think, you think

No manna falls from heaven
to feed the starving masses
because nothing comes for free
except a silent thought.

I can think of castles large and grand,
of shacks that barely stand,
or of hate over love's design
patterned in the sky.

And so I think, you think,
and presume the privilege free
until it's known payment's due
for what I chose to think.

I won't pay with dollars/cents
or even sacrifice my life
but look down quite bemused
at what my thoughts created.

And so I think, you think,
but if I can think before I think
I might think a better thought
and should I think before I die
I think I'll think of love!