Touch the stain of me.

Touch the stain of me.

The pain of me.

The drain of me

Through the gaps in the story

Ragged edges

Lost to truth

Amid the conjecture

The confluence of ideas

Suggestions and reflections.

Was I ever there

Was I ever truly there

The evidence, doctored

Tampered and tempered

Overlaid with opinion

Observation

Life is in short supply

Living is shared by

A company of others

If man was an Island

Alone and uninhabited

He might never exist

Who would be the wiser

When history

Is an adulteration

Of perspectives

Make mine a double

It will sharpen my vision

And I will plough on

Regardless of the truth

The way ahead is a

Bloodless coup.

The more you ignore

The bloodied past

The better it seems

It is why repetition

Is the surest way to hell.

Good intentions

Have nothing to do with it

When the stain of man

Is beneath his skin

It will take more than a quick rinse

Under the tap

To wash it out.

Biological imperatives

Are bad for the environment

Worse for the soul