One of the collective, observers of his own
Scholars of the unspoken and anthropologists of the untold
We analyze and fantasize about what our everyday lives speak to history as it unfolds
Acting as denominators to the unusual and common
Be it we are people of the "We..." or strangers from different apartments
I seek not to intrude but to be present in your living
Every struggle and victory in equal measure, taking note of the mixture and transitions
Avoiding to opinionate unless absolutely insisted
Apologizing for the times when my role becomes too active or inconsistent
Where I can't align with my ethics and views
Like campaign slogans forgotten at the steps
Or scripture left at the pews
And the reasons for the insistent thumps and pews
That rumble neighborhoods and catch children on their way to school
We document pain
And the media conglomerates too
Then we document the hysteria as a result of reporting and mongering let loose
I'm a reflection of the tension I see in the horns and the flanks
Social media and socializing like an untethered bull, left to its tools and running its race
There's no shuttering what's been unleashed
No killing the faceless, we're eternally in the blanks
No longer suffering in silence, an incitement can overthrow the ranks
Revolution is at our lips
And I suppose so is war
Not with bayonets and drone strikes
But with misinformation and distortion
When everything can be faked and truth is often obscure
Only the rigorous and religious will observe this honest form
What conveyed may not be true
And what is claimed often isn't gold
But what remains after it's served its use is recorded and resold
The people who relay this are not prophets
Some seeking profits from their troubles and journal ruminations
I'm no better at promising integrity than my peers
I communicate my nagging feeling that fumigation of our race is the sum of all my fears
