poetry by j matthew waters

time of the season

there is a time to play
and a time for prayer
the forgiveness of the day
     quickly vanishing
history books laced with hypocrisy
theoretically evolving
from one generation to the next

extremes seem to be
the flavor of the day
whether for fun or destruction
     food for thought
wrapped in body art or hatred
ideological musings
rallying for peace or executions

october two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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