Everything is peaceful

Untouched and predictable

In the before

But life turns

On a roaring cannon

As we skim the surface

We are tumbled under

Thrown into the machine

That seeks to swallow us whole

And we are minimized

By the shouting collective

Preaching their own practicality

The world is a disaster

That demands we match its pace

No matter the dictates of our hearts

Beneath that rumble of destruction

– Caroline A. Slee