The voice of free speech soft and dulcet in
its tone
or harsh, abrasive, cutting, and reaching
to the core,
moves freely like the wind, touching,
circulating,
and speaking only and always to those who
wish to hear.
Ideology, philosophy, wishful thinking,
memories,
unsubstantiated dreams, hopes, wishes,
needs, desires,
woven like a tapestry too soon to be
out-dated
and discarded like a heap of old and musty
books.
In a fire of these times volumes and
manuscripts
will burn and be forgotten like bodies of
the dead
and cynics will grow to outnumber those who
know
till all and everything disappears into the
air.
How pointless, how degrading, how useless
is intent
to expose to the already wise the wisdom of
the old
or shine like a star in the path of a blind
man
in the knowledge that he has no eyes to
see.
Too numerous the setbacks and too far away
the moon
to highlight a soul within the shell of
flesh
and everyone’s free speech will evolve into
dust
to be trodden on and crushed by life’s
intolerance.
The air once thin, sustaining, grows thick
and thicker now
with the absorption of … simply all and
everything
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