We are a species upon a bridge that burns.
We pull a cart before us as we lose two horses in the bush;
for we are a people told to shush by those in league with the burning bush.
Hush, don’t make a sound less we cause a scene, no one ever learns;
We are a people fraught and fickle minnow turns,
this one yearns.
It’s time to arise, wake up and somehow surmise the inevitable potential demise;
tis just over the horizon.
It’s not you, it’s me or is it us and when will we see? Wake up!
I’ve got my hopes and my