So, what is the answer? At present this is probably the most asked question all around the world. We have all been snared in a global conflict that was initially referred to as an excursion, which was actually an incursion which could more accurately be called an act of war. The ripples of this ill-advised miscalculation have had repercussions reverberating far beyond the theatre of war.
So, what's the answer? I certainly didn't hear it yesterday. The address to the American people, and by extension the rest of the world, provided no answers whatsoever. It delivered a bottle of smoke.
I confess to being utterly bewildered and terribly concerned by what has been set in place by two world leaders who take no responsibility for what they have unleashed, and the disruption to global affairs they have set in play. Such actions possess all the hallmarks of moral malnutrition...
That's my response, my rant. Even if there is a clear answer to this disturbing situation, those proposing solutions are probably engaged in a dialogue of the deaf.
Let me assure you dear reader the poem that follows is not another rant poem, but rather an examination of what often happens when we go in search of answers to events that leave us betwixt and between. Answers are frequently elusive and hard to pin down. Such dilemmas often bedevil us.
So, What’s The Answer?
travel
in straight lines
Sometimes
they spin
endlessly
in circles
Morphing
into stories
Brimming
with waffle
and minutiae
Sometimes
they head off
and become lost
rather quickly
Some answers
are reluctant to reveal
their true selves
Refusing
to dance
on the tongue
They frustrate
and fail
to get
to the point
often
stun
and amaze
Like
a dart
to the heart
Brevity
wrapped
in a few
stinging words
So, what’s the answer?
So few answers
travel
in straight lines.
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