in a world where strangers kiss whomever they please whenever their eyes picked the pleasing,
and always said what they meant;
a land where the scorned scorn those who scorned them fractions of moments after being scorned;
children will beat the dirt in which they came from,
with all the might of pent up clemency
to find
in exchange for an open ear,
and a shovel to the earth,
the soil would've come bearing gifts.
