The East West Divide. 1991.

The difference is.

The difference is, was

Between me and I.

I is fine and loving lonely.

Me is building battlements.

I is loading arrows.

Me is shooting them

at I.

A foreign legion leers inviting.

Me is armed and waiting.

While I is gazing, tasting, holding up a lock,

me is tightly swallowing a key.

Soon I will be surrounded,

Walled in me and blinded

By the dark and me will

turn and shoot the eyes that

cannot see the leers inviting.

I is sleeping, hoping that

the gentle soldiers grab the key

and unlock the lock to free

the me so then I’ll stand,

Just so, and stride into the mystery

that beckons.

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