We nearly died

Lucky to be alive

Each day a gift now

That we’re out of there

So they tell me in stories

Of white robes and black tea

How tightly they watched us

Always so aware

Grass huts with dirt floors

Water from a spigot

Living on our own labor

Holding on by a hair

Cut off from reality

No news is good news

Blissfully ignorant

Without any care

But we were fortunate

We woke up when we did

Blessed that we left it

And got out of there

Though often I wonder

If I really feel lucky

To be part of a world

That lives only to scare

Wars rage over oceans

Children dead in their homes

Some displaced and some starving

Their feet cold and bare

Wickedness taking over

A constant barrage

Of murders and shootings

Never know how you’ll fare

Death sneaks up like lightning

Accident or grave illness

I find natural causes

To be more and more rare

Hurricanes in the harbor

Tornadoes beat the plains

Fires turn towns to ashes

And blacken the air

It’s a treacherous landscape

A hellish existence

Why should I endure it?

Why should I even dare?

Why not live in a commune

Away from all danger

Where people are carefree

Happily unaware

Eat fresh food from the land

Meditate to the sunrise

No more watching the news

With a horrified stare

And if I die trying?

Would that be so awful?

Escape from this torment

This wheat full of tares

I’d sooner live out my days

Among peaceful companions

Than worry my heart out

In Lucifer’s lair

I yearn for those grass huts

That euphoric people

No idea why they’re so happy

To be out of there

(Dang…writing this piece almost makes me want to join a cult….kidding ;)