what's clear
is that everything is unclear.
the fog of war,
the smoke
of fires burning.
the screams
of babies dying.
children
running through the streets
chased by madmen.
a world
of fantasy,
and unknowing.
what will save the world?
not me,
not you.
not separating the tin cans
from the glass bottles.
not eating
organic chickens,
or saving a whale,
or driving electric cars.
all of it,
fool's gold.
mere drops of do gooding
going nowhere.
making us believe
it's all working,
our lapels
pinned with paper gold stars.
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