I raise my hand.
I have something to say.
I open my mouth to speak.
Attendance is low.
A shout goes unheard.
The rest are half asleep.
It is criminally crazy.
It borders self-defeat.
It enterains our non-misgivings.
To share in the leftovers.
And claim you’ve naught to eat.
But I’ve been there and done that too.
Confusing cares and growing pains.
Eyes, face, spirit: Bathed in blue.
My own self sought a selflessness.
And found a selfish crying shame.
But who is to blame? Who is to blame!
We each have ten fingers to point.
The I, the You, or the Other Many or
The We lost to Individuality.

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