This button panics


This peace that you so seek
floats, dances like tiny twinkling stars
Around your grasp, gaze
Look too hard and catch a headache
Take off your sight for a second,
And strangle peace with your hands
There’s no touching too hard
No under cooking
A little bit of this and that
A mix of misinformation
A little bit of fear and anxiety
A gun without bullet,
Would offer only blank shots
A pen without ink,
Would write only what eyes cannot read.

Victor Oyedele

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