Wicked Noise

I do not miss screaming at the silence.

Nor live streaming demestic violence.

(My white noise was carnage)

Loaded plastic pistols protected my

precious dreams from plagued pirates

and camoflaughed elected officials.

(Wickedness incarnate)

My freedom was being challenged by radical racism.

Hope was being pursued by dedicated journalism.

Truth, interpreted through domesticated terrorism.

I look forward to investing in defensive mechanisms

as a way to defend all of Earth's living organisms.

We have become obsessed with government renovation.

An addiction responsible for causing increased human segregation.

We, the people, should be obsessed with interspecies

innovation and prolonging mortality's desolation.

It is not too late to undo what has been done.

Spreading hatred is easy.

Spreading love will be fun.