our lives are a vision
scattered with false words,
ambiguous smiles, and pleasant chatter
a comment on the world
every view unique,
but does it really matter?
we swarm the streets like insects
in this political reality,
souls barren, minds weak
at the end of the day
when I fall to my knees,
it's Your name I will speak ~
Copyright ©2008 Angela Schofield
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