The Writers Voice
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The Caller
by
Rusty Broadspear
Tippy toe
carefully my friend
When skipping through fields of human frailty.
Beware, for they sleep and they don't.
They love to love.
They love to kill
For the guises of our Maker.
Select one, if I may advise
From the host,
Dissect, inspect
A soup of emotions.
Balance them but
Do not jump to conclusions.
Love maybe prevalent
Hate perhaps insignificant.
However the latter
Can fester, bubble to the surface.
It does matter,
Not to presume, my friend.
Intellect varies little
Yield can be diverse.
A simpleton may be profound
And an academic inane.
This race swims
Such muddy waters.
One cannot escape
The beauty of their planet.
A diversity and life force
Of itself.
Yet if they don't ignore,
Then they plunder.
So is it wonder
I advise you my friend,
Step warily
For what you see is what you don't
And what you expect,
Is what you won't.
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