Inner Works ™

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En Pointe

The world cries

Foul over savageness

We all conceived

 

For generations by

Accepting the notions of

Failed leaders who

 

Accomplished nothing

Except to advance how we

Should be adversaries

 

Of each other

To justify segregating us

Behind the vagueness

 

Of imaginary borders

Calculated to delineate

We and them, but

 

My Soul is en pointe

And sustains me beyond

Ruinous overtures

 

Unveiling threads of

Love desperately suturing

Wounds of humanity