Last night I went downtown in my dream
into a city I helped create,
but there were strangers there
they were all carrying signs.
Our eyes met...
we lifted our signs as if to let them speak.
There were so many of them
and each had a different message.
I had to look at mine to see what it said.
There written in black Sharpie
was my personal life's question.
WHY? Just why...why...why.
None of the other signs
seemed to provide an answer.
There was passion, commitment,
anger, venom, judgment, and even humor.
But there were no signs of compassion
and no signs of forgiveness.
There were signs calling for justice
but there were also signs of racism and bigotry.
I wandered the streets
looking for others like me.
There was violence all around,
war appeared to be winning over peace.
There were police there
they told me to turn back,
that I was breaking the law,
but my question wouldn't let me
They pepper sprayed me,
blinding my question,
then tazered for good measure.
I stood with tears in my eyes.
I began to weep and weep,
not for what they had done
but because my question remained
edit on 06/02/2011 by grayeagle because: Correct spacing