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Judge Not

Dom Root

Everybody has a story

that extends well beyond

their micro presentations,

on any given day.

We wear faces

foreign to the one’s

found in our dreams, but

we do it to survive.

Even in those mere moments

we spend far too long dwelling

on the parts of someone

that align with wicked depictions

of how we think it’s supposed to be.

The pages are frayed

after centuries worth of writing,

our stories differ

from the cities

to suburbs

and out past the junkyards.

At times, our past experiences lend

us to hold generalizations

as evidence for one's

lack of qualification

and

to be frank

it’s about the misappropriation of respect,

on every level.

We all have a past

that is more or less noble,

we’ve crippled to the pits

of indecision and faith lost,

but the good thing about faith,

is that it fairs well against the odds,

so it will always be restored.

There must be things to love,

to care for and

believe in,

a drive of passion.

Some find it in art, music, business,

while others find it in animals, nature,

or researching the various

dimensions of this planet,

and what’s beyond it.

We share a common condition,

that features

a humanitarian gift

coupled with a worldly desire

to feed capitalistic

intentions,

for possession

or even power,

it has not a name

or a remedy,

but I like to say,

once you zoom out of a person’s

micro through his

macro you get a lot closer

it is there that we tame the conditions

of our agreement here on this earth.

Dom S. Flagg 2016


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