There’s a certain foreboding

Reaction to the now,

We’re surfing chunks of dynamite

While the fuse is being laid. 

It seems we are spectators,

Not a lot of strength to speak.

Yet we’re watching what we dislike,

Losing faith holding no matches.

It’s not really an issue with the idealists,

Simple exploitation by an arrogant …

Trying to find some shelter,

Finding the ground to stand upon.

It’s all unraveling by the hour,

It’s all too much to really feel.